Not the Best First Impression
by A Scribbler
Summary: After babysitting Squee, Izzy learns that you shouldn't mess with the crazy man next door, but why did he change his mind about killing her? Does she want revenge, is there more to him? And why is she starting to hear voices the longer she's with him? Not a romance even if it seems like one at times! This is Nny we're talking about here!
1. Chapter 1: Deaths Door

There are two things that you need to know about Izzy. First, she's the kind of person that gets an idea and will not let it go, this could be from an idea that it would be funny for a dog to start meowing to an idea that the child she was babysitting for should be taken into care. Second, she had only ever cried twice, and that was in fact the only two times that she had ever been scared. Both of these things are actually how the story starts.

She was babysitting for a small, troubled little boy called Todd Casil. It had been a long night to say the least. Both parents weren't even present when she arrived so who knows how long the poor boy had been alone.. The money was left on the table along with a note that said just three short sentences:

_Babysitter,_

_The kid is in his room. Don't bother me or my wife. Money's on the table for when you leave._

_Mr. Casil._

Izzy had spent most of the six hour visit trying to convince Todd that she was not in fact some evil demon trying to take him to the realm of the un-dead and that she was safe. After gaining a small amount of trust, she had made him something to eat and was now tucking him into his bed to get him to sleep.

"So what time did your parents say they would be back?" she asked.

"Um… They didn't tell me anything. Maybe they're not coming back! Maybe they've been eaten by some evil maggot in the street or what if -"

"Hey, hey, calm down!" I hushed, smoothing his hair, "They're fine, I know it. I promise that when you wake up, they'll be back, okay?"

"But what if I don't wake up. What if -"

"You will wake up, I promise." I smiled, brushing away tiny tears that were forming, "I'm sure that Shmee here won't let anything hurt you."

I picked up the creepy looking bear and made it kiss the boy on the head before tucking him in next to him for good measure. Outside she was smiling, but on the inside she was fuming. How could a parent let their child become this scared, leaving him who knows how long before the babysitter shows up, this kid was traumatised! Izzy had over twenty cousins and two siblings to which she was the oldest at nineteen, she was very maternal.

"Do you want me to tell a bedtime story Todd?"

He ducked his head and muttered, "You can call me 'Squee' if you like, everyone else does…"

I took this as a big step in the right direction and nodded, "Okay, why do they call you that?"

"It's the noise I make when I'm scared, and I do it a lot."

She had to admit, she had been wondering why he had been making that noise all night, but thought that it was just a habit he had, which wasn't really far from the truth. She felt so much sympathy for this boy, as someone who had never been scared in her life, she couldn't even being to imagine being in this kids shoes and being scared of everything.

"It's okay to be scared. You know, I had a similar nickname when I was around your age." Squee titled his head in curiosity, "They called me 'Meep' because I used to have to wear a hearing aid and it kept making a little _meep_ sound every now and again. Strangely enough, it seemed to happen whenever I got an idea, like how it would be funny if a dog starting meowing like a kitten."

He giggled and settled down into a sleeping position. As he yawned he glanced at his window and whispered, "Will you stay until I sleep so that the crazy man next door doesn't try and talk to me?"

What the hell?

"Crazy man next door?" she asked, instinctively glaring at the window.

He nodded, "He scares me, but he only likes to talk to me. He's not too bad, but he scares me, so I don't want to talk to him tonight when my parents aren't here."

She nodded, "Okay, you go to sleep, I'll be right here and when you wake up Mummy and Daddy will be home." She didn't mean to say this, but it slipped out, "And if you need anything, I'll always be there for you, I promise."

He nodded and closed his eyes. True to her word, Izzy stayed put. An idea was forming in her head. There was something very wrong with this child, maybe she should ring social services or something. She wasn't sure if she actually believed that there was a crazy man next door, but the fact that he was scared of him, real or not, was not right. He needed to feel safe and loved, he needed real parents and a real home. But she had only been to this house once, and she was just a babysitter, so didn't really have the right.

When she was sure that Squee was sleeping soundly, she got up and left the room. Just as she was walking downstairs, the front door opened and an irritated and tired looking man walked in.

"Did you have a nice night, Mr. Casil?" Izzy asked, making a presumption that it was her employer.

He grumbled and pushed past her heading into a study, "Did my wife wake up?"

The mother was here? "Uh, no, she didn't. But Todd is asleep -"

He slammed the door in her face. She was about to storm in there and give him a piece of her mind, but thought against it. Instead, she called to him that she could babysit again if needed and then left the house, fists clenched in anger. She couldn't stand rude people, and rude people who neglected their children was just infuriating! Maybe she should ring social services… No, she would have another few turns babysitting for them first and then make her decision. After all, she didn't want to blow things out of proportion, and loose her job at the same time…

It was late and dark outside. She lived a few streets away so walking didn't bother her that much. However, she'd been warned that this was a rough area to live in. As she walked away form the house, she looked over at next door where the supposed crazy man lived. It was small and run down, the number 777 ironically, windows boarded up and no sign of life. Surely no one would be living there? She shook her head and carried on walking. It was cold so she wanted to get home, she'd think more on it later.

The streetlamps didn't work so well in this area, flickering randomly or just plain shorted out. The only real light was from the windows of houses that she passed by. It was creepy, but she wasn't too bothered by it, in fact, it was interesting seeing how things looked in the dark. It was like discovering a whole new world.

Her wonder was interrupted by something bumping straight into her. She stumbled to the side and looked up. It was a person she'd collided with, a tall, lanky man that she could see quite clearly, just his large, questioning eyes.

"Sorry, I was daydreaming." She said sheepishly, "You okay?"

He arched an eyebrow, "Yes. May I ask why you found my house so interesting?"

What was that supposed to mean? She thought for a moment, then it clicked. She subtly took a step backwards and smiled, "So you're the wacky man who lives next door?"

"Excuse me?" he asked, voice lowing slightly.

"I'm sorry that came out wrong! I was babysitting for the boy next door to you and he mentioned you, sorry that sounded mean." He was just staring at her intensely. Izzy started to feel a bit awkward and edged around him, "Um, goodnight!"

She walked a little faster down the street, she felt her face redden with embarrassment. Oh god that was awkward! She must have sounded like a right loon! She peeked over her shoulder, but he was gone, yet she still felt like she was being watched. She shook it off and convinced herself it was just the cold. Only another ten minutes or so and she'd be home in the warm.

All of a sudden, she felt herself being hoisted into the air and pulled into more darkness. Her back slammed against a damn brick wall, making her head jolt backwards into collision. Her vision swayed momentarily before focussing in on a tall, thin figure with practically glowing eyes. She widened her eyes in shock as she recognised him as the man from earlier. The next door man.

His hand was clamped around her neck, she tried to swing her arms but they were weak and flimsy like a dolls. She gasped for breath. The was a gleam of moonlight against metal and she shrieked as she saw it was a long, pointed knife. He glared at her as he pressed the tip against her navel.

"Wacky? I'm sure I've mentioned to people before that I despise that particular word, yet people still remain to use it to describe me. Then again… I'm not sure I left anyone as a witness last time." He said, unnaturally calmly.

For the first time in her life, Izzy was scared, purely terrified. And that is when the tears started falling. It was confusing as to what was more terrifying, the fact that she was about to die, or the fact that she was actually scared for once. She tried to beg to be set free, tried to apologise, but he only tightened his grip.

"Let me guess, you didn't mean to? You're sorry? You'll never use that word again? You'll do anything? Oh here's the best one, you'll promise to change if I let you go?" he sounded bored, "From experience, you people are never sorry, you're only sorry that you didn't get away with it."

With that, he thrust the blade into her stomach and cruelly twisted it. The pain was unbearable, she screamed in agony and felt the sickly, hot rush of her own blood absorb into her jacket. He withdrew the blade and released her. He expected her to fall to the ground, maybe he would have to stab her again?

Izzy saw black spots hovering in front of her. The smell of blood made her retch, which only cause more blood to pour away. She felt him step away, looking at her with disgust. Tears fell hot and heavy down her cheeks, heart fading into murmurs of life. However, she didn't fall, like she thought she would. Instead, she tilted forward, her arms grabbing the stranger by the shoulders. She pulled him to her, and tried to whisper something. He was startled, but didn't pull away. Then, he understood what she was saying. She didn't even know why this was her dying wish, but it felt right. She brought her quivering lips to his ear and said:

"Tell Squee… I'm sorry… I broke my promise…" she gasped, and with that, her grip slipped and fell into the dirt of the ally at the strangers feet.


	2. Chapter 2: Crazy, not Wacky

Beeping, why could she hear beeping? She was dead, wasn't she? How could she have survived that? Beeping? Izzy flickered open her eyed and found herself in a white room that stank of bleach. There was a horrible, but not unbearable pain in her stomach, she reached under the covers of the bed she was in to get a better look. She shrieked in horror as a raw, puffy scar was stretched across it. What had happened?

She tried to remember. Yeah, she was leaving Squee's house, then was walking home. Then she met that guy… and he stabbed her. He dragged her into a dark ally and tried to kill her! Did that mean that she was dead? Was this some sort of waiting room for heaven or hell? She tried to control her breathing and not to hyperventilate. Izzy thought of her friends, her family, poor little Squee. She'd broken her promise, she would never forgive herself for that. Never.

There was a tap of metal against wood and the sound of someone clearing their throat. She jumped and searched the room, but it was still late and the room was covered in a dark layer of shadows. In the corner, sitting in a visitors chair, was a figure. A tall, thin figure with large eyes, staring right at her.

"Evening." He said calmly.

Izzy couldn't move, she could only stare in horror. He'd found her and was going to finish the job, she thought, please make it quick! Or, was he dead too? She didn't know what to think anymore.

"You know, you said something back there that sparked my interest, now I'm not one to give into temptation so easily, but I like to keep an open mind." He explained, placing his knife into his black bag, "So what promise were you breaking, and how did being stabbed have anything to do with it?"

She felt her mouth go dry, but she needed to be strong now. She refused to let him scare her again, that was an emotion that she never wanted to feel again. "I promised Todd-Squee that I would always be there for him if he needed me." Izzy answered, face determined, "I can't exactly do that if I'm dead."

He nodded, "And what connection have you to him, I've never seen you around before?"

"I'm his babysitter, I was worried about him. What connection have _you_ to him?" She challenged, not caring what he thought of her now.

"Oh, me? I'm just the _wacky_ man next door, remember?" he spat, "Is that how he honestly described me?"

She thought about it, "No, he said crazy. Who knew one word would cost me my life." I glared.

He arched an eyebrow, "You're not dead, you're in hospital. Lucky for you I pointed the knife upwards, it grazed your stomach and punctured your left lung. No long-term damage now, if I'd left you there however, you would be dead."

Izzy glared at him, "What, so you saved me so that I could answer a question? Let me guess, you're going to finish the job now?"

"No need to be hostile."

She pointed at her stomach, "Don't talk to me about hostile! If you're going to kill me -"

"No, actually it seems that you provide a use. That boy needs someone like you looking out for him, my methods are much more… extreme."

He straightened up and looked at her expectantly. Her jaw hung open, not really sure how to react to this. One minute he was trying to kill her and the next he was making out like they had just finished a slight disagreement. He just stared at her, what was she supposed to do? He remained motionless and the two looked at one another for a moment. Izzy could feel the awkwardness growing in the air. How do you continue from your attacker suddenly introducing himself like that?

"Why did you try to kill me? And why did you bring me here?" She asked cautiously.

"You used that word, which I don't suggest you use again, and then I needed answers. Now, it seems we share a concern for the boy. You show next to little fear and continue to challenge me, I admire that, even though it's not normally recommended around the likes of me."

"Are you some kind of crazy person?"

"V for Vendetta? You're quoting that film? Good choice and yes… I suppose quite crazy."

"And what's to stop me calling the doctors or police to arrest you?"

He smirked, but it wasn't smug, it was almost sad, "You wouldn't, and even if you did, I cannot be caught. No one ever notices me. It's a gift, although, also a curse. Forced to live with the guilt and memories knowing that you will never be able to repay your debt to society. It relieves you, while also terrifying you."

She tilted her head, "You're a bit cocky, aren't you?"

"No, I'm honest. For example, you've been glancing over at the panic button since you've noticed my present, yet you haven't even made a single move towards it. As for my other point… the less proof you need for that the better."

A lump rose in her throat, "You've killed others?"

This time, he smiled, "I had my reasons. Oh, look at the time, I've got things to do and you need to rest and recover." She watched as he casually picked up his black bag and walked to the door of her room, he turned around before it closed and smirked, "I might see you around some time…"

Izzy was frozen for what seemed like forever. She finally noticed that she wasn't breathing and exhaled before gasping for air. Everything that had just happened slowly sunk in and she started her to feel her heart pounding in her ribcage. A cold sweat was forming on her forehead as she realised, he had tried to kill her, he had snuck into her hospital room, and he had a weapon! He was dangerous! She lunged to the machine and pressed the panic button.


	3. Chapter 3: The Phantom Returns

It had been the best part of a month and life was just starting to get back to normal. Izzy had spent a week in the hospital and then another week at home recovering. The last two weeks she had spent trying to get back into her routine of a weekend job at the local café along with university coursework. Soon, she felt relaxed enough to move back out of her parents house and back into her flat with university accommodation.

True to his word, her attacker still hadn't been caught. After pressing the panic button, she had told the doctors everything and had given a police statement, but soon the case had been dropped with no further evidence of the attacker's whereabouts. She had even given the address, but apparently the resident of that house was in the clear. She couldn't understand it, but she had chosen to move on. She would never see him again and her life was starting over.

It was still horrifying every time she undressed, seeing that scar permanently etched into her skin as a reminder of that night. Every now and again, she'd see something in the corner of her eye and find her pulse racing thinking that it might be him. Whether it really was or not, she never knew, but she convinced herself that it wasn't for her own sake than anyone else. It was horrible though, if she only knew what he looked like…

Then, one night, she got a phone call, asking for her to babysit for Todd again. A cold sweat beaded on her neck, but she agreed. The thought of putting herself in any situation that involved going near that house was unbearable. But she had made a promise to that little boy. He needed someone, and now that she knew that the neighbour was real, he needed someone more than ever. So if it was down to her, so be it.

Thankfully, her friend had offered to drive her to the house and pick her up after. She was dropped to the house and once again found it seemingly empty. Little Squee was sitting on the sofa, buried under the pillows and peeking out for danger. He emerged a slightly when he saw her. She smiled and sat next to him.

"Miss me?" she asked, tousling his hair.

The night when a lot smoother than the first time. They watched a film, made some food and played an unusual game called 'Clean the house of demons' which included Izzy running around with a crucifix. Soon it was time for bed. Like before, she tucked him in and was forced to stay with him until he fell asleep. As he was drifting off, he asked:

"Did the man next door hurt you?"

She felt a chill, "What?"

"He told me what he did."

That was the last straw, she thought, she was calling social services as soon as she was home. She swallowed hard and chose to answer truthfully.

"Yeah, it did hurt, but it's okay now, he's leaving me alone now. And soon he'll leave you alone too."

Squee shook his head, "I don't think he will, but thanks."

And with that, he snuggled down and closed his eyes. Izzy couldn't believe how calm he was about it, but then again he was used to it. As soon as she was sure he was asleep, she left and went downstairs to watch some TV before the parents came home. But just as she reached the top step, she heard something from down in the kitchen. She instinctively grabbed the first this she could get her hands on which luckily enough was a heavy ornament, a long necked vase. She gripped the neck like a baseball bat and held it above her head, edging her way down the stairs. She tiptoed down the hall and peeked into the kitchen.

She jumped out, swinging the vase and reddened as she saw that it was just the father. She quickly covered up her actions by claiming she was playing a game. Then left, she wanted to keep babysitting, but she had to stop people thinking she was loosing it first. She asked called her friend and asked to be picked up from the coffee shop up the road.

Izzy had sprinted the entire way there, she wasn't taking any chances in letting anyone catch up to her. She had grown out of the fear, but she still didn't want it to happen again, who would? When she arrived, she went straight to the bar and ordered an extra large latte. Looking around, she noticed that all of the tables were occupied. Instead, she noticed a large sofa by the window, it could easily sit at lest four people, but only one person sat there. Surely he wouldn't mind. She paid for her drink and walked over to the stranger.

"Hi, is it okay if I join you? Everywhere else is full." She asked sweetly.

He turned his head. Izzy noticed that he was awfully pale, his skin almost sallow. He had tousled black hair and very large, bright eyes. His body was covered by a floor-length black leather coat, but she could tell that he was tall, maybe a year or two older than her. He eyed her from head to toe, an unnerving smirk twitching at his lips.

"Sure, go ahead."

She nervously sat at the point furthest away from him and tried to shake the horrible feeling that she had met him before. He kept smiling at her, staring. Warning signs were flashing through her mind, that voice, that smirk. No, it couldn't be… She stole a glance at him and tried to make conversation. Her attacker had a very distinctive way of talking, she could figure it out if she tried. She was about to open her mouth when he beat her to it.

He got to his feet and bowed low so that his nose was almost at knee length, "I am Johnny, but you can call me Nny for short, I never caught your name."

Izzy froze as he returned to his seat, "Uh… Izzy, but you can call me Zzy for short…" He just looked at her, she cleared her throat, "I'm Izzy."

He was so familiar with her, every cell in her body was telling her to run or call for help, but something was stopping her. Play it cool, Izzy, she told herself, get him into a false sense of security. He claimed he couldn't be caught, she'd prove him wrong. This is when the idea was born, let him think that she doesn't know him and then, when he least expects it, he's going down! But man she wished he would stop staring at her.


	4. Chapter 4: Backfired

"So, you live around here?" she asked, distracting herself by taking a sip of her scalding drink.

He eyed her warily, "Quite close, yes, you?"

"Not far." Keep it vague, don't give anything away, "Babysitting the boy down the road, you know him?"

He smirked, "Ah yes, in fact I was going to visit him fairly soon."

She tried to hide her horror, that poor boy. She needed to stop him. She refused to let this maniac go anywhere near Squee! Izzy nodded.

"Mind if I join you?"

Now it was his turn to look surprised. She understood that she was playing a dangerous game, this guy was a dangerous killer, and he enjoyed it! But on the other hand, he had already admitted that he wouldn't kill her, so all she had to do was push her luck just far enough, and then he'd be behind bars. While all of this was rushing through her head, her exterior remained composed and smiling.

"Sure, why not? How's tomorrow?" he asked, casually resting his chin in his palm, almost challenging her.

She nodded and jumped at the sound of her friend honking the horn in the car outside. They both turned, Izzy got to her feet. He too stood and faced her. She backed away and waved goodbye.

"So, tomorrow? Bye Johnny."

"Nny." He corrected, "Until tomorrow, Zzy."

"Izzy." She corrected, surprised to find herself laughing.

She turned and jumped into the passengers seat of her friends car and finally managed to breathe normally. Her friend eyed her suspiciously, but Izzy was giving nothing away. She needed to be sneaky about this. Her plan was already forming in her head. She'd arrange to babysit again tomorrow, then she'd get Squee to sleep earlier and wait. When Nny arrived, she'd call the police in secret while he was in another room. All she had to do then was keep him occupied until the authorities came. Just in case, she'd record what was being said on her mobile for extra evidence. It was perfect, she knew that she would be safe for the most part because he had as good as admitted that he wouldn't kill her, and Squee was safe because he'd be asleep in his room. It was no where near a perfect plan, but it was a good enough plan.

The next morning, she called the Casil residence and asked if they needed her for that night. It took some convincing, but in the end, all she had to say was that if they called her down, they'd have an excuse to spend more time away from their son and that was that. She had the job. This time she promised herself, if this idea of hers went to plan, she'd tell the police about the neglect in the family. Once again, her friend dropped her off, and she stepped inside, the plan was set.

As she tucked Squee into bed he asked her, "You know when he hurt you?" he didn't even have to elaborate on who _he_ was, "Why did he help you? I hear him in his house sometimes, he never helps anyone after hurting them."

Izzy shrugged, feeling uncomfortable talking about this with a young child, "Maybe he knew that I looked after you, so he thought that you needed another friend."

He nodded, "That's more or less what he said too."

She shuddered and crossed the room towards the slightly open window, she shut it and locked it. She was startled by the whimper coming from the boys mouth.

"_Squee!_ He doesn't like the window being locked!"

She smiled, "Well, I don't like him, so there."

She looked out of the window and poked her tongue out at the house next door before closing the curtains, making the child laugh. She once again waited until he was asleep, and then went downstairs with the intention to set her mobile to record, any sounds or confessions made would be used as further evidence. But as she was making her way into the living room, there was a horrible sense of déjà vu as she heard noises from the kitchen. Once again, she grabbed the large vase and made her way down. Using the reflective surface in the strap of her watch, she peered around the corner.

She new that figure all too well by this point. Tall, lanky, thin, tousled black hair, sallow skin, it was him alright. So her suspicions had been right the night before at the coffee shop. All memories of her plan were erased from her mind as the adrenaline pumped through her veins. He had his back to her, she felt her fists tighten around the vase. Now was her chance, she could actually get him arrested now. Prove him wrong! He could be caught, and he would be!

Izzy held her breath and crept in closer to him. This was it. In a grunt of effort she swung the vase down as hard as she could over his head. However, at the last moment, he ducked and turned around, catching the vase in his hand. She stumbled and fell forward, he caught her in one arm wrapped around her. He looked down at her wryly.

"Long time no see!" He said, cheerfully, "I warned you, I couldn't be caught."

She broke away from him and backed away, "What makes you think that I haven't called the police already?" she snapped secretly wishing that she had before trying to approach him. She lunged and grabbed at a kitchen knife, holding it out to keep distance between them.

He shook his head, "Because you're bag with your mobile are over in the living room, and the only house phone is right here." He pointed to the cordless phone behind him.

Izzy huffed, "What do you want? I know you've been following me!"

"Just curious, as to whether or not I've mentally scarred another person. But I must say, you're doing very well!" he grinned.

"So I'm some test subject to you now?"

He thought about it, "No… but you _are_ only one of two people who have survived my actions. So that's always an interesting factor to look at. But as I recall it, you're the one who set up this arrangement. I don't like liars."

"And I don't like people who stab and stalk me!"

"So tell me, why act so charming before?" he asked calmly taking a seat, "I almost thought that all was forgiven."

Izzy felt her jaw drop, "Because I didn't know it was you to start with! Then I figured it out and I was angry and -"

She stopped when she noticed that he was almost examining her with his eyes, so curious and yet held a hint of admiration. She glared at him.

"You don't really act how one would expect, were you perhaps damaged somewhat in childhood? Normally, the instinct is to run, beg for mercy, panic, even try to negotiate or something. You're the first to go looking for trouble. The first to take matters into their own hands in fact. Although, not the first to return the attack…" his eyes wondered as a memory fluttered by his mind.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I don't scared easily." She said, gripping the knife tighter.

"Except when your life is ending, now _that_ is typical."

"I'm not scared of dying, I was scared of you." She retorted.

"I've never really apologised to a victim, maybe I have once-no twice! But I digress, third times the charm, -"

"Save it! I'm not scared of you now!"

He got to his feet, "Because you have a weapon? Have you ever killed anyone, Izzy?"

She didn't move, she didn't have a threatening answer for that one. She'd never so much as hit a person let alone kill. He stepped confidently closer to her so that the tip of the knife was digging ever so slightly into his chest.

"Go ahead, do it. In a way, you'll be doing me a favour." He sighed when she didn't move, "We both understand that this little set up isn't going anywhere, and I for one am willing to start over. Also, may I just say, you're holding the blade wrong."

What the hell? He was asking for forgiveness, yet teaching her how to hold a knife, and insulting her plan? There was a genuine glint of guilt in his eyes that she couldn't ignore. Once again, danger was flashing in her brain, but she couldn't help it. There was an air of self-hatred about him. He reached out and took the blade from her, which she was horrified to see herself let him, and gripped it so that the butt of the handle was in his fist, closest to his thumb and the blade pointed down, he lifted it up and swung it down.

"Like that for quick attacks," he flipped it around to now the blade was pointed upwards, "Like this for a lethal blow to an area of your choice when you have them cornered."

To her surprise, he handed the knife back to her, she gripped it in the first manner for quick attacks, he smiled, but with a hint of disappointment.

"There you go, now I know that you don't intend to kill me." He enclosed her hand that was wrapped around the knife in his and tilted it so that it was aimed at his heart, "As I don't intend to kill you, cross my heart."


	5. Chapter 5: Don't trust the Untrustable

Izzy tried to swallow but it felt as through her throat had turned to sandpaper. He released her and she jumped as her grip loosened and the blade clanged to the ground. The two stared at it for a moment. Nny turned on his heel and proceeded to make his way upstairs. Izzy chased after him.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom?"

"Oh…"

As soon as he was out of sight, she collapsed into a chair, panting for breath. She listened and was sure that he was in the bathroom, she was on edge, if he dared go near that boy's room, there would be no mercy. She smacked her palm to her forehead, feeling the cold sweat under her bangs. Who was she kidding, he could easily overpower her. What was she doing? He had tried to kill her, broken into the house, and here she was making polite conversation like he was an old friend! It didn't make sense! She had to do something! She ran into the living room and pulled out her mobile, typing in the number for the police.

Just as she was about to hit the call button, she hesitated. There was no real answer for why she was frozen in thought, but for one reason or another, she couldn't bring herself to call the police. Something he had said was really playing on her mind. The look of disappointment in his eye when he clicked that she wasn't going to kill him, and the words he had spoken to her. _Go ahead, do it. In a way you'll be doing me a favour._

He was so unstable. So alone. He really hated himself. No, wait, what was she thinking? How could she feel sympathy for him? He was a murderous psychopath! Yet, she cancelled her dialling and replaced her mobile in her bag. Oh no, another idea was forming in her mind, she tried to stop it knowing how dangerous her ideas could be, but it was too late. If you took away the fact that he was a killer, he seemed pretty decent and honest, maybe she could help him?

Wait, it was unnaturally quiet. She edged her way up the stairs and peered around the banister, the bathroom door was wide open, and empty. She felt a lump rise in her throat and panic burn at the back of her head. She rushed into Squee's room, the child was sound asleep, quirking as he dreamt. A chilly breeze swept through her hair, she turned and noticed the window, unlocked and wide open. Carefully, she peered out and was just able to catch sight of a shadowed figure vanishing into the run down house next door. As she backed away to relock the window, but as she slid the glass down, she noticed a note stuck to the inside. She removed it and read it slowly.

_Please don't lock the window again. I don't like things to be locked._

_Nny_

For a moment, she felt the urge to resist and lock the window all the same, but for some reason, satisfied herself with closing the curtains. A creek from downstairs alerted her that Squee's parents had returned. She received her pay and left the house, standing at the corner waiting for her friend to pick her up. She jumped at a sound from near by, it sounded like sobbing. It wasn't from Squee's house, it was too far away for that. She followed the sound towards _that_ house. Next door, 777. She gulped. No, she decided that she was not going to take another step. It was a talent of hers to predict who was going to die next in horror films, mainly because the characters made stupid choices like entering the scary house where the weird sounds were coming from. She took pride in not acting like those people. No way was that going to change now.

But it was also known that she had an evil sense of curiosity, and it was in her maternal instincts to try and tend to the sounds of tears. Okay, she would make a compromise. She would not go into the house, she would merely knock and go from there. Yes, that was acceptable. Her heart in her throat, she crept up the pathway and tapped lightly on the door. At the slightest touch, the door opened revealing a bare and darkly lit room. There was no furniture as far as she could tell, a sofa and TV, that was it. The smell of damp and metal lingered in the air. The sobbing was louder in here.

No, she wasn't going to go in, she had told herself that, but instead she lent forward so that her head was inside. A hunched figure in the corner caught her eye, it was quivering from sobbing and fumbling with something in its hands.

She cleared her throat, "Uh… Nny? You okay?"

His head snapped around, glaring at her with large eyes, "Poor choice of words to say to a being in obvious distress."

Her face burned, "A harsh tone to use against someone who was trying to help."

He returned to his work with his hands. Izzy noticed that it was a long rope, he was fashioning it into a noose. He slipped it over his neck and let his silvery tears sink into the material. Izzy stared at him in horror, not sure what to do.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she asked, desperately, her feet rooted to the stop.

"Thinking. I've tried to change. I thought that after _her_, I would never hurt again, but once again I was wrong. Questions remain unanswered, people continue to hurt or be hurt, I remain this mutation in the scum of the earth like I always was. You know, Izzy, I've been gone for so long, thinking, now I've returned, it's like the loop of destruction has once again circled me. Leaving, actually doesn't solve anything. So this time, I won't leave. I'll just die instead. After all, now I can go in peace that there will be someone to watch after little Squee. I bid you goodbye, Izzy."

As he was talking, he had thrown the other end of the rope over a rafter and was now standing on the sofa, tightening the rope and ready to jump. Izzy stared in horror as he leapt into the air. Before she knew what she was doing, she ran into the house and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him in the air with the rope slack and useless. He was surprisingly light, she pushed him back into standing on the sofa. He stared down at her with questioning eyes.

"Dying _is_ leaving, you idiot!" she spat, "I had a friend from school who killed himself like this and you know what? You're right, leaving doesn't solve anything, so what exactly did you expect to gain from this? You're selfish!"

As she untied the noose from around his neck, she felt her knuckles dampening from his tears dripping into her skin. With a sharp tug, she pulled him off the sofa to stand on the floor in front of her.

"Selfish?" he repeated, testing the word in his mouth.

"Yes. Thinking of yourself, you think you're alone and that killing yourself is a good thing well it's fucking not, it's just not! I know you've killed people, but the fact that you want to change and that you actually helped someone who you were going to kill proves that you're not as evil as you make out. Now for gods sake stop feeling sorry for yourself and keep trying!"

She felt her blood pumping in her ears. There was no explanation for her outburst, or her anger, but she meant what she said. Although her thoughts for him were still muddled, and she still wasn't comfortable being so close to him for obvious reasons, she still couldn't bring herself to let him die. It was that damned idea in her head, she wanted to help him. He needed help. He eyed her suspiciously under his tears and held his body rigid.

"You remind me of nail-bunny… No one _real_ has ever spoken to me like that before."

Izzy chose not to ask what a 'nail-bunny' was or what he meant by 'real' because it was clear that questioning him was not going to get either of them anywhere.

"It was a mistake asking for your forgiveness," he continued, "It's foolish. Take some advice, Izzy, I don't give it out very often, but do not trick yourself into trusting me. Don't trust who doesn't trust himself."

She shook her head, "I don't trust you. But I do forgive you. Now take my advice, forgive yourself."

Whenever she was babysitting her siblings or cousins and they were in a state of sadness or loneliness, she had always reacted in one simple way. This was also the way she reacted to her friends were depressed or upset. It was a reflex reaction that she found very hard to control. Now for example, was a time where she not only couldn't fight it, but also deemed it necessary. She stepped closer to his frozen stature, exterminating the gap between them, wrapped her arms around him and rested her head in the crook of his neck. She hugged him.

Johnny felt his instinct telling him to push her away, but he found that he actually liked this harmless contact. She was so warm against him, and her grip was very admirable considering her height. He really didn't know how to move on from this. He lifted one hand and anxiously placed it on her head in a comforting manner. With the other, he gently placed it on her shoulder. It took a little while longer before he brought up the courage to finally rest his head on hers and properly wrap his arms around her.

Izzy smiled to herself at this progress. She had been about to move away, thinking she had made a dire mistake when she felt his nervous, jittery movements in an attempt to react positively to her. It was obvious that he was not used to this kind of contact and didn't know how to react. But now, she relaxed and shivered slightly at the dampness of his tears in her hair. He held her tightly and didn't seem like he was going to let go anytime soon. Finally, they released each other.

"Looks like you needed that." She smiled.

"I don't deserve it. Such a gesture is meant for -"

She interrupted his and shook her fist in his face, "Stop with the self-pity or I'll hug you again!"

He felt a smile tug at his lips and watched as she pulled out her mobile phone and dialled a number.

"Hi it's me, yeah I'm fine thanks, you? Great, look, sorry about this but I won't need a lift home sorry. I'm fine, honestly, thanks. Okay, I'll see you around. Bye." She turned back to him as she hung up and nodded towards the door, "Come on, you're coming with me tonight."

He blinked, "Excuse me?"

"Well, I need to make sure that you're not going to do anything stupid, and I'd feel more comfortable in my flat then here, no offence."

He followed her out into the street, too confused to argue, "And as for not trusting me?"

"Trust and compassion are two different things. I think you need a night away from it all too, don't you think?" she waited for him to shrug and took that as an agreement, "Now come on, I don't live that far."


	6. Chapter 6: The Sleeper and the Sleepless

When they arrived at her flat, Izzy was thankful that the place was empty. It was now the holidays and most people had gone home. She however, wanted to stay behind to catch up on the work she had missed. She led him into her room and pointed out the on-suite bathroom and down the hallway towards the kitchen. It was getting late and the fatigue was starting to take effect on her. She excused herself to go to the kitchen and left him alone.

He stood next to the single bed and looked at the posters of quirky sayings plastered on her walls. _Evil at Work. Imagination is more important than knowledge as knowledge is limited and imagination encircles the world. Be yourself because everyone else is taken. _There were little doodles and drawings pinned on her work board too, cartoons and landscapes, she was actually quite talented. He wondered what she would think of his comics, he had a copy in his rucksack along with his diary and a change of clothes, along with a blade, just in case… He wondered why she was being so kind to him, not that he appreciated it, but he still felt as though he didn't deserve it.

Izzy re-entered the room holding two cans of 'Cherry FizWiz', his eyes brightened. She eyed him as he stood there awkwardly, shoulders hunched and chewing his lip. She handed him one of the cans.

"You don't have to be so nervous, you can sit down." She smiled, "Sorry about the drink, it's all that's here, I haven't been shopping in a while."

"Don't be," he said, obediently sitting on the bed, "It happens to be a favourite of mine."

"Mine too." She took a sip, he followed suit, "So, you can sleep in my bed, I'll use the pullout mattress underneath."

To demonstrate, she reached under the bed and pulled on a handle, dragging a fully made bed from underneath, well a mattress with sheets and a pillow to be exact. He opened his mouth to argue but she lifted a finger to cut him off.

"My room, my rules. I'm sleeping on this, no offence but you could do with a good nights sleep."

"I don't sleep. The idea of it terrifies me, to awaken and not know what's real and what was a dream, to not know it to be unprepared, and I want to remember what's real and what's not." He explained, holding his elbows in his palms.

Wow, he was more unstable than I thought, Izzy wondered to herself. She smiled all the same and grabbed a pair of her pyjamas and went to get changed in the bathroom. When she returned, he had not moved a centimetre. She sat on the bed next to him and nudged his shoulder playfully.

"You said I reminded you of someone, nail-bunny, was it?" she offered as a conversation topic.

He side-glanced at her, "He was a voice in my head. I had three. Nail bunny was so kind to me, always stopping me from killing myself. The other two just wanted me to kill. I don't want to talk about them thought. They're gone, I don't hear or see them anymore now."

So, Izzy thought, he's an insomniac _and_ schizophrenic.

"You don't have to talk about them, it's good you don't hear them anymore. You can make your own choices now, but I do like the sound of nail-bunny." She smirked.

The corners of his lips twitched, "He would have liked you too."

She cleared her throat, this was some touchy matters she was getting into, but her curiosity was eating her alive.

"And the 'her' you mentioned before?"

He stiffened, his shoulders hunching a little more, "The one that got away. I nearly killed her too, you know, because the other voices told me to. I don't want to talk about her either. She's safe without me now, I cannot hurt what I do not acknowledge, which I should exercise more with you…"

She shrugged, "Maybe, but life would be less interesting that way."

This time, he did smile. Izzy had to admit that despite the slightly yellowed teeth and sallow skin, he did actually have a pretty nice smile. He wasn't that had to look at either, there was a charm about him that she couldn't put her finger on. But whatever it was, it was magnetizing, pulling her in against all of her natural instincts. She forced herself to look away. Her bare feet kicked at the blanket the mattress on the floor and she slid herself down onto it.

"I'm a bit tired, do you mind if I sleep?"

He shook his head, "To quote, your room, your rules. Do you mind if I don't sleep?"

She smirked as she lay down on her back, looking up at him, "Lay down and at least _try_ to sleep. If you don't sleep, that's okay."

He watched as her eyes closed, she looked so peaceful, even though she had not actually fallen asleep yet. He got to his feet and flicked the light-switch, sending the room into darkness. He removed his boots and curled up onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

"Goodnight, Izzy." He whispered into the dark.

She shifted in mid-consciousness, "Goodnight, Nny."

He waited a while longer until he was sure the she as asleep before pulling out his diary and began scribbling away. The next time he looked at the clock on the wall, it was gone 1am. He folded the covers of the diary together and returned it to his bag. The curtains had been left open and the night sky was alight with stars. He rolled over onto his side and looked down at Izzy, sleeping soundly below him. He reached across and flicked a strand of her hair out of her eyes and examined her with his eyes. What was it about her that fascinated him? Why was she forgiving him? Why did she trust him so? After all, he had put her in hospital, both in the figurative sense that he had nearly killed her and in the literal sense of taking her to the hospital himself.

Did she see something in him that he couldn't detect? As far as he could tell, she was trying to help him, and he appreciated it, but he was not used to it. No one had ever helped him before? What made this one so different? He pulled out his blade and ran the steel gently over her cheek, dangling the tip tauntingly over her. At anytime, she could turn out to be just like all of those worthless people of society that were on a mission to be _original_ and make his life a misery. Any moment now…

So what was stopping him from killing her now? If he knew that it was only a matter of time before she turned on him, just like everyone else, killing her now would preserve the good memory of her. It would save her from her own fate and save himself from the pain later. So why couldn't he do it? No, he had to, it would only end badly otherwise. He lifted the blade high in the air and slashed it downwards, aiming at her heart.

She moaned slightly as she shifted in her sleep. He froze, the blade inches from her skin. The sheets slid away from her and her pyjama top bunched up slightly, revealing her stomach. He gasped. Even in the dark, her scar, his mark, was prominent and looked sore. His skin shuddered at the memory of the blood, he hated any bodily fluids, blood included. He felt bile rise in his throat at the thought of the amount of internal scars he must have caused.

Guilt washed over him and he found himself retracting the blade and putting it back in his bag. He gently pulled her top down to cover her scar and readjusted the sheets around her. With a single finger, he traced the outline of her face and caressed her cheek. She instinctively leant in towards the cause of her comfort and smiled slightly in her sleep. So peaceful, he thought, maybe you were right Izzy, maybe I did need this…

Izzy awoke with a start. For a moment, she had no idea why she was on the spare bed, but then slowly everything managed to fit into place. She looked up and found that she was alone. Nny was nowhere to be found. She jumped up and pulled her dressing gown around her and made her way to the kitchen.

The strangest of dreams surrounded her last night. She was lost in the dark, and there were different voices calling to her. One was small and sweet, telling her that everything would be okay, if she just thought about things for a moment, it would turn out good in the end. Another was telling her that she was doomed and there was nothing she could do about it and should give up. But then a third voice was arguing with the second, saying that although she was in fact doomed, she could avoid it by making Nny suffer my fate instead. Izzy had been so confused, tears were stilling down her face as a giant knife hung over her threateningly, with each sentence from the voices, it looked all the moor likely to fall. But then, _he_ was there, cupping his hands over her damp cheeks and brushing her hair out of her eyes. She smiled and leaned into him, Nny smiled, but he couldn't see the blade, or hear the voices. She held onto him, wanting to drown it out.

She shook the memory of it away and out it to the back of her mind; she was stressed that's all. She needed some food and to calm down. Suddenly, the smell of sizzling meat and burning sugar wafted around her. She breathed it in with longing and made her way to the kitchen. As she entered, she saw Nny leaning over the stove, nearly all of her pots and pans in place with something bubbling or sizzling from them.

"Morning." Nny smiled, tipping a few foodstuffs out and organizing them on different plates.

"What's all this?" she asked, not sure if she was still dreaming or not.

"Breakfast." He explained, he tilted his head at her confusion, "I did warn you about sleep, it plays tricks with the mind."

She nodded and shrugged, she had to give him that one, "I'll, uh, just go get dressed."

As she rushed back into her room, a blush descended upon her. Why had he gone through so much trouble? A simple slice of toast would have been more than enough. Not toast, a full English breakfast and pancakes! Not that she minded, but still, it felt like too much for no reason. In minutes, she re-entered the kitchen fully clothed, hair brushed and teeth cleaned. He paused for a moment, taking in her appearance. She ducked her eyes from his and took a seat at the table.

He surrounded her with plates piled with food and joined her, picking at a few things here and there. She had to admit, this food was amazing, to look at him she never would have thought that he could cook.

"This is great, you didn't have to go through all this." She smiled, swallowing her third pancake.

He chewed his lip, "Actually, I did. You let me stay here and …" he trailed off.

"I only let you sleep in my bed, that's no big deal and -"

"I tried to kill you last night." He blurted out, remaining totally composed at all times.

She choked on her food and gasped for breath, "You what?"

He lifted his hands placed his fingertips together, forcing himself to look directly into her eyes, "When you were sleeping, I was tempted to kill you, but… something stopped me. So this is my thank you gesture, as well as my apology."

Izzy took a deep breath, stopping her heart from hammering against her ribs, beads of tears were forming in his eyes again, her heart just melted right there and then.

"Well, uh, you didn't. That's the main thing." She smiled, "Think about it, if something is telling you not to kill, and you're listening, then things are getting better, right?"

He looked taken back by this response, "I should leave now. I'm only a risk. Besides, you've done more than enough for me."

She grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past her, "No, you're staying here. You're getting better, and I'm not letting you leave until you see that you're not as bad a person as you make out, oaky? Now sit down and eat something."

Without realising, he had returned to his seat and grabbed a piece of bacon. Why was he so willing to obey her? He smiled, he enjoyed her ordering him around, it gave him something to do and it made him feel like he was doing something good. But he couldn't shake that irritating nagging at the back of his mind. Maybe next time he wouldn't be so lucky. In a single, swift movement, he reached across and grabbed a large kitchen knife. He held it out to her to take the handle.

"If I'm staying here, you need to be prepared."

She took the knife from him anxiously, "Excuse me?"

"I don't trust myself, and I don't like how you're trusting me. I can feel something turning in my mind and I don't like where it could lead, so to be on the safe side, I'm teaching you how to protect yourself against me."

She arched her eyebrow at him, "You're serious?"

He nodded, "Who knows my own attacks better than me? I'll teach you how I attack, so then you can be ready if something goes wrong."

Izzy laughed and got to her feet to put the knife back in its stand. He jumped up behind her and span her around, gripping her shoulders with amazing grip, digging his nails into her skin slightly. Her eyes widened in surprise as he glared down on her desperately.

"Please Izzy, don't give me any chance to hurt you again. I want to be able to trust myself knowing that you're ready if things go bad, let me prepare you just in case."

She couldn't move, but she looked up into his large, pleading eyes. He had a point, he was getting better but no where near stable. If this was going to give him some piece of mind, she would do it. In fact, maybe it was a good thing, he said himself that he had tried to kill her and she didn't even know about it. Maybe she did need a little self-defence training.

"Okay, when do we start?" she smiled, calmly.


	7. Chapter 7: Double SidedBlades

It was either that Izzy was a fast learner, or that Nny was an excellent teacher. He forced her to always carry a weapon with her and would take an unfortunate fancy to attacking her at random points throught the day. At first, it was simple things. They would be sitting on the sofa, and he would deliberately tilt his blade to reflect the light, making her aware of his upcoming slash. She would roll out of the way and jump to her feet, pulling out her knife and blocking. That would be the end of it, but then over the week, it steadily got more extreme.

Something else that was getting extreme was her nightmares. Every night, those three voices haunted her. One calm and comforting, the other two harsh and cruel. Rarely could she understand them but she never really wanted to. She hated them.

She was kneeling on the floor on her room, digging under her bed for a lost bracelet. She didn't see the shadow-like figure creeping behind her. No footsteps were heard among the soft carpet. Nny felt a cold sweat form at the back of his neck. She wasn't going to see him, she was going to die this time. He bit his lip, he had done his best. Izzy noticed a tiny movement from behind her and she kicked out one of her legs, forcing one of her attackers' legs from underneath him making his stumble. He swiped the weapon down and if she hadn't have tilted her head, she would have been scarred. The blade she kept tucked into her belt was withdrawn as she pulled his other leg, making him fall to the ground. Without hesitating, she pressed her knee down on the arm what held the blade and straddled his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. She held her knife to his throat and forced his weapon away from him. It all happened so fast that Nny didn't even remember the knife being taken from him. He nodded.

"You're improving."

She grinned and then blushed as she noticed the compromising position that they were in. The blades were returned to their owners and Izzy helped him to his feet. At a final attempt, Nny suddenly clenched the handle of his weapon and forced it upwards towards her throat. She ducked and grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm backwards and bringing the tip of her blade to his chest while digging his own into his back. She removed the blade form his fingers, her own hands trembling.

As she released him she tucked both knives into her belt, "I think I'll hold on to this for a while."

A rare genuine grin broke around his face; finally, she'd gotten the idea. All that time he was attacking her and showing her how to block, it wasn't so that she was training to fight him, it was so he didn't get the chance to hurt her. Every time she had returned his weapon, that was giving him permission to hurt her, it killed him inside. Now here she was, taking that chance away from him. She had control now.

"What?" she asked, blushing slightly at his intense stare.

He shook his head and averted his eyes, "I just… don't think you need to worry anymore. It looks like you can handle yourself pretty well."

For some reason, Izzy felt a little disappointed. Despite having her life threatened up to three times a day, she had been having fun. The constant rush of adrenaline was like a drug to her now. She could feel it now buzzing in her veins as she stood before him.

"Thanks, you're a good teacher."

"A teacher can only be good if the student wants them to be. You clearly wanted me to be good."

Izzy couldn't tell if he was being serious, or if it was some attempt at banter. Either way, she nodded and instinctively took a step closer to him. His eyes widened slightly in a hidden panic. What was she doing? Something was troubling her, he could tell, but what was it? He tilted his head as a signal to speak.

"Why is all of this necessary? I mean, you've told me yourself, you haven't killed in so long, why am I such a risk?"

She thinks I hate her, Nny thought, "It's a long story."

"I'm a good listener." She folded her arms and tried to give herself a playful banter tone, "Am I that irritating that killing me is too temping?"

He sighed and walked past her to sit on the bed, she joined him

"There was once a time when killing people was… necessary. A demon lay beyond the wall of my house, only kept at bay by the fresh coated blood of victims. But one day it escaped, and the voices stopped, and killing seemed more of a hobby than a necessity. But even that came to be pointless. I didn't want to kill, it made me feel worse than the scum of society that scuttles in the dirt. Those were the people I killed, people who deserved it."

Izzy swallowed hard, this wasn't a long story, so she guessed that there was so much more to it than he was telling her. But she didn't press the matter. A haze had descended over his eyes, spacing him out into a void of memories.

"But you've stopped, that's the main thing." She offered.

"I nearly killed you." He pointed out.

"And you saved my life. Now you're trying to give me a chance to save my own life in the future. You're not a bad person, Nny, you just have your views on the world and stick by them. There's nothing wrong with that, I actually admire that about you."

He flinched from her and looked at her in alarm, "Admiration is a strong word to use, don't waste it on the likes of me."

"What's not to admire, if you look hard enough?" she continued, "You have your own opinions and stand by them, you understand your mistakes and try to make up for them, you care enough about people to try and save them even if it's just a few and… and you're a lot stronger than you think you are."

She didn't know where these words were coming from, but she meant every single one. Without either of them knowing, she had moved her hand over his and was caressing the fabric of his torn gloves with her thumb. Something was pulling her closer to him, with her free hand she cupped his cheek. He flinched, still uncomfortable with having skin on skin contact, but he persevered, interested as to what she was doing. Izzy didn't quite know what she was doing herself, but it just seemed right. She tilted her head upwards and urged his head closer to hers. Closing her eyes, she pressed her lips against his and waited for him to respond.

Nny's eyes widened in shock. Frozen, he didn't know what to do. Part of him wanted to push her away and demand what the fuck she thought she was doing. But the other wanted to hold her close. But something clicked inside him and made the choice for him. It was warm and started in the pit of his stomach. He reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, leaning in closer to her. Izzy felt a flutter of relief in the base of her chest and breathed him in. She didn't try to open his mouth, understanding his hatred for bodily fluids, but the urge was pushing against her will. To her surprise, it was Nny who made that first move, his tongue venturing shyly into the cave of her mouth. She was slow with him, allowing him to get used to it and retreat if he wanted to. She accidently let a breathy moan of pleasure escape her. Nny reacted to his, feeling a familiar sense of power that he hadn't felt since the night he almost killed her. He grabbed her shoulders and leaned her towards him, spinning their bodies around so that she lay on the bed, his torso against hers. They didn't know how long they were like that, huddled in an endless ecstasy, but they wished it wouldn't end, wishing it would go further.

Izzy ran one leg along his, starting to feel her hands slip beneath his shirt, when a horribly familiar voice whispered inside her head.

"You could kill him you know, he'd never expect that…"

She gasped, but that only made Nny hold onto her more, making her feel safe.

"No, that wouldn't work," a second voice said, his tone dripping with malice, "killing yourself, wouldn't that be much more unexpected?"

"Don't listen to them, Izzy, they're trying to hurt him, don't let them win!" a third, tiny voice echoed, getting weaker.

Izzy clutched Nny closer to her, praying for safety, he couldn't hear them. He didn't know what she was listening to. Just then, as he continued to entangle his fingers in her hair, she whispered his name. Nny went cold. A chill spread over him, there was something not right here. He pulled away and forced the two blades from Izzy's belt, holding them high above his head. Her eyes widened in fear. She squeezed her eyed shut as she felt him bring the two blades down on her. But she felt no pain, instead she felt two thuds in her mattress and then his weight lift from her.

By the time she had opened her eyes, Nny was gone. The two knives were set in an X above her neck, pinning her head to the bed. She shivered in fear, a pair of cold laughter bounced inside her skull. What was this? Where was Nny? Who was talking to her? Was she going… insane?

Nny sprinted out into the street, his face buring with rage and frustration. How could this be happening again? And to her of all people? He had to put an end to this now, before things got worse. He had actually started to feel like something worth being alive, how dare this fucking thing come back! He ran until he reached his house. He forced his way inside and ran down to the basement. There was a smell of decomposed flesh as he passed the half-rotten rabbit that he had nailed to the wall so long ago. Just beneath it, in pieces on the floor, were the crumbled remains of the Doughboys. Nny dropped to the ground and picked up the two faces that he wished he had destroyed long ago.

"What have you done to her you fuckers?"


	8. Chapter 8: Killing Me or Killing You?

Nny looked down at the crumbling Styrofoam in his hands and felt his rage burning inside him. While he had been holding Izzy close to him, he felt something move inside her that he knew was not meant to be there. A cold wave over her heart that sparked something in his head. For a moment, he was sure he had heard dark cackling that could only have come from two people, but it was coming from inside her somehow… He knew that there was something definitely wrong by the way she held him, it was not in lust or in happiness, it was in fear and desperation.

"Answer me!" he yelled, "What have you done to her?"

Again, there was silence. He grabbed at a hammer left on the floor and held it over the motionless heads of the Doughboys threateningly. They didn't answer him, he smacked the hammer against them, breaking off parts of their face until only their eyes and mouth remained in tact. He dropped them to the side and threw himself against the wall where nail-bunny was secured.

"Please, talk to me! What've they done?" he begged the rabbit corpse, but there was no answer.

He couldn't hear them anymore, the hadn't been able to hear them since he came back from Hell. Why would now make any difference. He angrily shoved the rubble that made up the Doughboys faces into his pockets and raced out of his house. Not again, he couldn't let them return again…

Izzy lay motionless on the bed, the blades above her neck keeping her in place. She knew that she could try and remove them, but what was the point? Nny would be angry if she moved. It was best just to stay still. Her eyes closed and tears slid back into her hair.

"Oh dear, what are we going to do with you?" mocked one of the cruel voices inside her head.

"I don't know, but she's not doing much good for our boy now, is she?" answered the other.

Izzy could almost hear their shared grin, "Who are you?" she called out into the room.

"How rude of us…"

"So very rude…"

"Answer me!" she screamed.

They cackled before one of them answered, "I don't believe Nny's mentioned us has he Mr. Eff?"

"No, D-boy, however, he has mentioned the runt. I believe he said that she reminds him of it."

"Nail-bunny?" she muttered, "You're those other two voices that told him to kill, aren't you?"

"Such a clever girl," Izzy guessed that his was Mr. Eff, "But not clever enough to kill herself like I told her too!"

"That wouldn't have done any good, killing him would have been better!"

"Leave me alone!" she cried, gripping the sides of her mattress in fear, "You're not real!"

"Of course we're _real_, Izzy, we're just not… _alive._" Mr. Eff pointed out.

"To be real or alive… that's not what I'm here for…"

"Tough, it's what I'm here for!"

Izzy reached over the blades to cover her ears as they argued inside her head, but that seemed to make it louder. She screamed and kicked, the skin on her neck rubbing against the blades that held her. Tears spilled down her face, pooling down past her ears from the angle she was laying. She could feel the hot trickle of her blood dripping onto her bed sheets. Why was this happening to her? How could she be hearing voices from _his_ head? It didn't make sense! She wanted to end this, make it all quiet! In a fit of desperation, she wrenched one of the blades from her mattress, slicing her neck as she went and pushed herself into sitting position. A whimper of fear escaped her as she held the knife to her head, ready to throw herself forward and force in through her skull.

"Leave me alone or I'll do it!"

Mr. Eff laughed, "But that's what I _want_ you to do!"

"NO! Save that blade for Nny! You know it's the right thing to do, he's only going to hurt more people!" D-boy screeched.

"But think, if you kill yourself, you'll be rid of us… and Nny's little _hobby_."

The blade quivered in her hands, she felt more trapped then ever. She sobbed and rocked back and fore, choosing to die there and then, or continuing the torture.

"You don't have to do either, Izzy." A faint, smiling voice whispered, "Choose the third option, choose to live, both of you to live!"

"Nail-bunny?" she whispered, her arms dropping slightly.

"Shut up, runt!"

"Go on Izzy, do it!"

"No, kill him!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Izzy screamed and lifted her arms above her head, and forced the blade towards her. She would rather die than have them arguing inside her head any longer. It wasn't right, it wasn't real, it wasn't her! She had to make it stop! Just as the tip of the blade pressed into her forehead, something that resembled the grip of a vice clamped down on her wrists, holding her in place. She refused to open her eyes, but she continued to battle with the resistance, getting weaker in the process. Suddenly, everything was silent.

Darkness, that's all there was to it. She felt herself floating on nothing, more darkness maybe… Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw two pale figures. She was being pulled towards them. The closer she got, the more she could make out. They looked like little statues of gothic, graffiti covered baker boys. The Doughboys, she knew instantly. A flash of panic shot through her and she tried to get away, but she was so weak, the pull was too strong. The stared at her with cruel, dead eyes and smug grins. They started to reach out and grab her arms and legs. She screamed and they began to pull her in opposite directions. Mr. Eff demanding she kill herself, D-boy ordering her to kill Nny. Tears fell into the black void beneath her as she screamed for help, the awful feeling of drowning suddenly washing over her.

She sat up and spluttered as the icy water ran down her throat. Her hands flew to her eyes, rubbing away the pools of water that had landed there. Cold trickles of moister ran down her neck, back and chest. Shivering, she looked around to find herself in her room, soaked. She jumped as she saw Nny standing next to her, arm above her head with a now empty mug in his hand. A few stray droplets dripped onto her head.

"I wondered if that really worked or not…" Nny stated, still not moving his arm.

"What happened?" she coughed, rubbing the moisture on her arms away.

"Nothing much. I came back from some… business, and found you about to impale yourself in the head." He released the mug, letting it fall and bounce off of her head, "Pathetic."

"Pathetic? You have no idea what…" she trailed off, he had every idea what it was like.

He arched his brow and placed his fingertips together, "No idea of what, Izzy?"

She wrapped her arms around herself, "Forget it."

Nny analysed her for a moment. She thinks that she's as insane as me, he pondered, fear is taking over, so she won't speak of it. They were inside of her, he could tell that much, but how and why, he had no clue. He lifted a hand to comfort her, but decided against it.

"Where did you go?" she muttered, not making eye contact.

"To… sort something out. Turned out to be a pointless endeavour. But as is life."

"So why stop me from killing myself?"

He crossed his arms in thought, "It's what they want isn't it?"

Izzy flinched in surprise, he knew? Of course he knew, he could probably hear them too, she thought. She nodded and felt another tear slip down her cheek. Nny watched the trail it left behind and how it dripped from her chin onto her neck, vanishing under her clothes.

"Don't listen to them. It was the same argument every time. Kill or Kill yourself, am I right?" he waited for her to nod before he carried on, "The amount of times I gave in, it's weak really, but you don't have to be. You can fight them."

Izzy wasn't sure if his tone was comforting, or mocking. Either way, she ignored the way he said it and focused on what he said. She moved her hand towards his, but he retracted it with lightning speed, making her jump. What was the matter?

At her questioning look he explained, "Every touch we've shared had lead to disaster. The last contact we had nearly lead to your suicide, I refuse to re-live those memories or with new ones by repeating the cause."

A pang of loneliness shot through her chest. Was she that much of a pathetic waste, so weak and damaged that even he would taint himself to just hold her hand? Yet, she pulled away and gripped her own hands together instead, trying to hide her sorrow.

Nny tilted his head to the side, "Hungry?"

She nodded, "A little, and a little tired."

"Sleep now, I'll wake you up when I've made you something to eat."

Izzy called after him as he left the room, "Not with cold water though, please?"

He smirked, "But it was so amusing to me…"

She allowed herself a smile as he vanished from her sight. Her back sunk down into the sheets and the coppery smell of blood reached her nose. Her own blood was still damp on the sheets, next to the puncture marks from the blades. Right now, she didn't care, she just wanted to sleep, forget, cry. Out of the three, sleep was the best idea. She closed her eyes, and allowed the darkness to wash over her once more.

However, the moment she was swallowed by the haze, they returned to her. Pulling her to pieces, screaming their orders. She couldn't get away. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her screams echoed into the nothing around her. Please, stop it, make it stop, help!

She awoke with a start, screaming. Her knees were brought up to her chin and she began rocking herself back and fore, sobbing and whimpering, every time she closed her eyes, their faces were staring at her. Just then, Nny charged into the room, waving a fork around in attack stance. As soon as he realised there was no visible danger, he looked at Izzy questioningly, but understood what had happened. They were torturing her from the inside.

Izzy looked pleadingly at Nny, sobbing desperately, "Don't let them get me, Nny! They won't let me sleep! Please, I can't fall asleep or they'll get me again! Please Nny, help me! Don't let them make me hurt you, I can't take it!" she gripped her hair in her hands, "Please help me!"

Nny didn't make a single step towards her, he wouldn't let himself. Instead, he left to fetch a bowl of pasta from the kitchen and returned, gingerly placing it next to her. She couldn't move, she was shaking too much. Her eyes looked longingly at the food. Her arm quivered outwards but her fingers were too jittery to grip the fork or get a grip on the food. She tossed the fork down in frustration and returned to hugging herself tightly. Nny sighed and sat on the bed next to her, taking the bowl in his hands.

He rolled his eyes and fixed his face into what could only be described as un-amusement. He stabbed each piece of food individually and brought it to her lips, letting her take a bite and chew slowly before repeating the process. She was too scared to be embarrassed, she wasn't even fully aware that she was eating. He could have been feeding her razors for all she knew. Nny wasn't comfortable about this, he was too close to her for his liking, but she didn't make a single move towards him, she just stared into space.

When she was finished, he placed the bowl to the side and remained sitting next to her, fearing that she would make a fuss if he moved. He stretched, his back aching from being stuck in that position for so long. As his arms were raised outwards, Izzy finally allowed herself to close her eyes. She let herself fade into the haze of sleep. In her unconsciousness, she swayed and tilted to the side, colliding softly with Nny's chest. He froze, he was about to flinch away but she had caught him off guard. For a moment, he was stuck n position, not knowing what to do. Her heartbeat was so loud, or was that his? He didn't like the sound of hearts beating, it reminded him of all the blood pumping just beneath the flesh. He realised that he couldn't stay like this all night, so he brought his arms back down, one wrapping around her and tilted her backwards so that she was on her back. He threw a sheet over her and watched her.

Such evil lay within her, no doubt tormenting her right now, it would be more than easy to kill her now, put her out of her misery and rid himself from the Doughboys. No, he thought, let's see where this is going first. He went to turn away from her, when she stirred, her hair falling over her eyes. He grabbed the fork and used it to flick it her hair away again. Yes, let's see where this is going…


	9. Chapter 9: Split

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hi, I know I don't usually put these little notes in my chapters but I have to say this. I had a lot of fun near the end of this chapter, some scenes are a little disturbing and were really challenging to think into words. Hope you like it and don't forget to give feedback if you like. Also, from this point on it's going to get a little confusing with the Doughboys, so after this chapter, I suggest having a little note next to you or something reminding you which one is which, ha-ha, I'm so evil that I make you think while reading! Mwahaha! XD**_

Izzy snapped her eyes open, bolting into sitting position and her throat burning in mid-scream. She gasped for air and rubbed away the cold sweat that had formed during the night. She whimpered and managed to suppress another scream. The nightmares had returned, more vivid and tormenting than before. They were getting stronger; her limbs actually ached from her struggles in her psyche. Her throat stung and felt like miniscule claws had shredded them while she slept.

"They're persistent, aren't they?"

She started and turned to see Nny sitting across the room from her, legs folded on the windowsill and his elbows rested on his knees, fingertips pressed together. One slim eyebrow was arched, lips pursed questioningly.

It hurt to speak, "You were watching me sleep?"

"If you can call it sleeping. You spent most of your slumber screaming for help and battling with yourself."

She widened her eyes in disbelief, "I told you not to let me sleep! Why didn't you wake me if you could see how scared I was?"

He shrugged, "Your fear gave you such a surge of life, battling and screaming put some colour back in your face. I would have felt bad denying you of such an experience."

She didn't know if she should grudgingly thank him or slap him, so she did neither. Instead she sank back down into the sheets and tried to steady her breathing. True, her heart was pounding and she could actually feel her blood pumping around her body, but she would rather not feel it under those circumstances. He continued to watch her; he could feel her awkwardness, but chose not to do anything about it. It wasn't in his nature to deny anyone of feeling, even if it was a negative one.

"Why are they doing this to me, Nny? How is it even possible? You told me that they were just voices." Her voice was strained and hollow, empty.

He straightened up, "Every voice has a source, why else would our senses register them? But the source of _these_ voices is much more… prominent, they're bodies are gone, so their spirit remains. It's like after spilling blood onto a cream carpet; even after the source is removed and cleansed, the stain shall always be there in some faint form or other." He noticed her cringe at the image and sighed, "Or, in other words, after cooking and eating a meal, even if the food is devoured and every appliance clean, the smell shall linger in the air, unseen yet still effective."

Wow, she thought, he even manages to make that sound sinister.

"And they chose to come after me because…?"

He clapped his hands together and grinned, "No idea but it's an intriguing twist in our story!"

"Does that make me the damsel in distress at the mercy of these returning villains?" she groaned sarcastically, rubbing her temples.

His face darkened and his body stiffened, "I'm not your hero, Izzy."

She rolled onto her side to look at him in the eyes. He was so far away, a perfect distance to avoid any contact with her. A pang of loneliness chilled her. Her head was vibrating with fatigue and discomfort. As far as she could tell, she was merely a performance for him now. There was no reason for him so stay, he just wanted to know how things were going to play out, and then he'd be gone. Why was this happening to her? How was possible for _his_ voices to pass into her and torment her? Maybe they were real like he said, but if that was the case, then what were they planning? Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing had made sense since the night he had stabbed her. She wished that she had died that night, she wished he had left her in that ally to die. True, he was no hero, but he was no villain either. A Byronic hero possible, but he couldn't help her now.

"I'm going out for a while." He declared, getting to his feet.

"Where?" the panic in her voice was evident, "Will you come back?"

He crossed the room, "Just for a walk, and yes, I will come back."

"Promise?"

He froze in the doorway, his memory flashed back to the night he had stabbed her. She had asked him to tell Squee that she was sorry for breaking her promise. If he had allowed her to die, that would have been her dying wish. A simple promise. A promise is such a weak bond, fragile to the slightest word or action. It meant nothing in this society, but she wasn't a society. She was Izzy.

"I promise."

She watched him leave and tossed onto her back. A jittery panic scuttled under her skin, she didn't want to be alone. It made her feel worse knowing that she wasn't even totally alone, they were with her, laughing inside her skull. It made her want to cry. But she never cried. True, she had cried the night she had met Nny, and she had cried when she heard them arguing. Yet, the second time, it wasn't really her crying. It felt as though someone else was crying on her behalf, Nail-bunny, his sorrow was pulsating through her. He had cried, she had reacted to it. She wouldn't have minded if it was him she could hear, but she wasn't that lucky. She's never been lucky in the long run.

Something dark in the corner of her eye caught her attention. It was Johnny's black bag. Curiosity crept over her and she slowly edged her way towards it. Never had she had the urge to open it before, but now she was alone, the temptation was too great. Her fingers fumbled clumsily at the fastening until the bag opened wide. The first thing she saw was a small collection of blades, from small daggers to long swords. Stuffed into the inside pocket of the bag, was a gun. She gingerly picked it up, feeling the weight of it in her hand. Something inside of her wanted to put the barrel to her temple, just to feel the rush of knowing that one twitch of a muscle, and it'd all be over. Bang. Done. Over. She shuddered and thrust the gun back into its pocket, feeling disgusted with herself.

Her hands wondered deeper into the bag and brushed against some papers. She pulled them out gently and found that they were a series of comic strips names 'Happy Noodle Boy'. Her eyes scanned them carefully, taking in every basic stick figure and violent curse that was scribbled inside ill fitting speech bubbles. She found them, amusing ay best but there was something behind them that seemed to call to her. The self-hatred that the character had, and his hatred towards people, or rather the way people hated him… Nny clearly was producing what he thought people thought of him. It was tragic. However, other comics were more charming and had a bit of humour to them, vague and very unusual, but still humour.

Feeling like she had read enough, she returned the papers to their place and noticed another object in the bag. A book. A think and awfully battered book, a notepad really. On the front was the word 'Die-ary'. Her fingers itched to find out what lay inside; she had no idea that he kept a diary. She remembered the days when she vowed to write in a diary every night, but failed miserably when she discovered that she had nothing of real value in her life to write about. Her finger and thumb pinched the corner of the cover, ready to peel it back and gander at the secrets written within. Maybe she could find out more about the Doughboys and figure out how to beat them! But she paused. No, she couldn't. A diary was sacred to some people and if the tables had been turned, she would never want someone else reading her diary. Nodding at her choice, she stuffed it gently back into place, like it had never been moved. She couldn't betray him like that, he wouldn't do that to her. True, he was insane, a killer, sadistic and isolated. But, he was also honest and fragile. She could never do that to him.

As she carefully put the diary back in place, her fingers brushed against something else. It had an odd texture and felt like it was crumbling at her touch. Wait, there were two of them. She wrapped her hands around them and pulled them from the bag. They were made of Styrofoam, that much she was certain. Faces, faces that had been covered graffiti, warping their features with blank eyes and sinister grins. Her heart pounded at their familiarity a whimper of horror escaping her. The faces from her drams, the beings of the voices. There were here, in her hands, staring at her. Oh no, she could hear them.

They cackled, "We've found you…" they said with a slow, sinister tone.

She screamed and jumped to her feet, she tried to throw them away from her but her body wouldn't allow it. Instead she gripped them tighter. She heard her door open behind her.

"Izzy?"

Nny entered the room calmly, expecting the scream to be another result of a nightmare. Sleep, it caused nothing but hassle, why was she punishing herself by falling victim to it again? However, he instantly, he knew that something wasn't right when he saw her. Izzy was standing with her back to him, something small and brittle in each hand. All of a sudden, she became awfully still, inhuman in her frozen stature. He manoeuvred around the room to see his black bag open, a thin layer of white Styrofoam trailing over the outside. His eyes widened in anger. How dare she look through his things! Privacy was very important to him, how dare she violate this!

He stormed across so that he was standing directly in front of her; her head had hung low, her face out of view. He was about to start screaming at her when something made the words catch in his throat. The objects in her palms moved, he narrowed his eyes. They were the broken faces of the Doughboys that he had fetched from his house. But they were different; their dark patterns around their eyes and mouths were darker, more prominent, standing out around the two small daggers that had been forced through them. Their smiles wider, sinister and mocking him silently. He didn't remember impaling them as such, why had she done that? The blades were pushed straight though, producing sharply at the back of their heads.

In a single swift movement, Izzy snapped her head upwards. A twisted grin unnaturally stretching across her lips. Her eyes, once so bright and blue, were flooded with black. First the whites darkened, and bled into her forget-me-not iris; sinking into her pupils. He watched in horror as this black ink started to drip over her eyelashes, falling into patterns. On her left eye, the ink swarmed around the entirety of her eye and formed into the shape of an arrow pointing to the left towards her ea, where the ink had bled, her eye was no left completely white. On her right eye, it pooled out around the eye, a single trail left hanging down past her cheek and a branch style poking out to the right, however, this time where the ink had drained, it now left her eyeball with a black and white spiral sinking into her socket. She lifted the Doughboy heads, gripped the handles of the blades and savagely and swiftly stabbed herself in the shoulder with them, pinning the faces into her body. Nny realised the pattern on the right side of her face matched that of D-boy perfectly, as did the pattern on her left to Mr. Eff. Crimson liquid started soaking though her clothes beneath the faces, but she didn't even flinch.

Her head tilted to the left, towards Mr. Eff. She spoke, but it wasn't her voice. It was darker, gruff and cruel. It sounded just like…

"Hello Johnny. Did you miss us?"

Izzy snapped her head over to the right, her voice changing again, "We've certainly missed you…"


	10. Chapter 10: Grave Discoveries

**Hey, just a reminder because it does get a little confusing with the Doughboys. Mr Eff is in control of the left side of her and D-boy is on the right. I'll try and make as many subtle reminders of that as I go on, but it's just to warn you. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy, let me know if you do or even if you don't. XD Oh yeah, I'm supposed to be creating a suspenseful scary atmosphere, fail on my part, I'll shut up now XD**

Johnny looked upon the monstrosity that stood before him. Izzy, this poor girl, split into two evil personas. The black ink, that deformed her face matched the Styrofoam heads impaled into her shoulders perfectly. Her blood was soaking rapidly though her clothes now, he could smell it in the air. Where was she? She wasn't in the room anymore. Dead? Lost? He had no answers. But he did know one thing that was certain… Izzy was gone.

Her head snapped to the right, towards the head of D-boy, "We've had an idea, Nny, would you like to hear it? Of course you would…"

Head to the left, above Mr. Eff, "You see, I want the girl to die, yet my unfortunate tag-along here, wishes for you to die. We chose to be reasonable about this… We want you to pick."

Izzy's body crouched down, her waist at an odd angle making her less human. She rummaged through his bag, pulling out two long swords. She straightened up. Her left hand pointed a sword to her own throat, while the right hand aimed it at him. Her head remained still in its upright position while two of the cold voices echoed in unison.

"What's your decision?"

Johnny looked from one blade to the other, folding his arms in thought. Any normal person off the streets would order for someone else to be killed, sparing their own life. Or the rare few heroic people out there would sacrifice themselves to save an innocent. However, Johnny was not normal, neither was he deliberately heroic, and Izzy was not necessarily an innocent, he presumed. After all, she was a person, and no person is ever fully innocent. Such a dilemma. And a moral dilemma at that. He hated moral dilemmas. No, this caused for some rational thinking.

"Could you not do both?" he pondered aloud.

Izzy's eyes blinked, the possessors somewhat taken back by the odd question.

"Hmm, if done at the right time, you could… possibly. It's not a guarantee though…"

To the left, "No, I need her to die first."

"So, you don't care if I die too, you just want her to die first, Mr. Eff?" Nny questioned, pressing his fingers together.

"Yes, you see, if she kills herself, then her lifeless corpse is open for… oh I don't know, a bodiless voice like me to keep… permanently."

Nny nodded, "So you still want to truly exist." He clarified and looked at D-boy, finding himself tilting his head along with Izzy, "And you D-boy, what do you gain from my death… again?"

"I admit, you dying didn't work before, but I figured out why. You shot yourself, accident or not, so the only reasonable solution is that you need to be killed… by someone else. That way, when your mind fades from his world, so will I. I can't do that if Eff takes over the girl, part of me will still remain here, trapped."

Johnny huffed, "Of course, you two haven't changed. Still out for your own selfish gains. Not caring who you hurt in the process. Fuck, you're just like them out there! The cold-hearted brainless scum of the planet that walks the street on a daily basis!"

He paused, trying to calm himself down, this wasn't getting him anywhere.

"How were you able to carry this out anyway? You vanished after the creature behind the wall got out. I know that much. So how is it you can return into someone else's head, you were never able to posses me like this."

Mr Eff smirked on the left, "Still so full of questions! Well you see boy, we may have been silenced to you, and after all, the wall was your life and once that was gone, we had nothing to hold onto you anymore."

Over to the right, "But we were still connected, we came from your head after all, a bond like that isn't broken so easily. That's why I want you dead, you die and that bond is fully broken!"

Back to the left, Nny wondered if they were dizzy snapping back and fore like that, "Shut up! So Nny, you couldn't hear us, but we were always there. So when you started having your brain picked at by this curious little being," Izzy's hand tapped at her head, "we were able to pass over. She wasn't a killer, she wasn't insane, so it was all to easy to get inside and… move things around."

For some reason, Johnny wasn't mad at them. Don't get him wrong he hated them, but he wasn't as angry as he first expected to be. In fact, he had to admire their perseverance and skills of the mind. If they were real, they would have made brilliant killers… or physiatrists, either way… But Johnny realised he still had a choice to make. Did he let them kill Izzy and let Mr. Eff take over her, or did he let them kill him in order to set D-boy free. Either way, someone was going to die, maybe both of them depending on how things went.

"You're a lot calmer than we expected you to be…" D-boy commented.

Johnny nodded, "Yes, I'm surprised at my own reaction myself. I was wondering where is Izzy right now?"

Mr Eff sniggered on the left, "Oh she's still in here, fighting like a bitch too. In fact, I think it's only a matter of time before she comes back. So do hurry and make a choice."

Her hands clenched around the blades tighter. The one digging into her throat was starting to draw a think trickle of blood. He looked straight on at the metal tip in front of him and chewed his lip in thought.

"And if she comes back before I make my decision?"

The tattooed eyes narrowed, speaking in unison, "Then you know that we'll be back."

All of a sudden, the mix-matched eyes clenched shut and a piercing scream erupted from her mouth. It was a feminine, shrill scream that sent shivers through his skin. His mind flashed back to the days he used to gather blood for the wall. There were so many different screams he heard of a regular night out. Many a time he had brought along ear-plugs to drown them out. But now, he relished it. That one scream, made something click inside his head. He narrowed his eyes as a menacing grin burned across his face.

He ducked and grabbed Izzy by the wrists, forcing the blades upwards. He forced her knuckled together with a sickly crack making her loose her grip on them. He pushed her backwards so that she crumpled to the floor. He stood over her and yanked the impaled Styrofoam heads from her shoulders, making her scream in agony again. She still couldn't open her eyes or move properly. Her quivering body made him smile, how pathetic all of this was. Such drama.

Izzy lifted her head upwards to where she hoped Nny was. She had a good sense of judgement, because he ended up having a perfect view of her face. The black ink starting to trickle away into her skin, vanishing from sight. He had to admire her strength, they had barely possessed her for ten minutes, and here she was, just like they said: 'fighting like a bitch'.

"Nny…" he called weakly, eyes struggling to open, "Help me…"

Johnny hoisted her upwards by the neck of her shirt and gripped the small dagger in his other hand above her head. He whispered dangerously into her ear, making her flinch.

"I've told you before Izzy…"

He forcefully smacked the handle of the dagger against the back of her head, she groaned in pain as she fell into unconsciousness. She hung limp in his hand, so he let her slump down to the floor. He looked at his fingers and shuddered, finding some of her blood had soaked through onto him. He glared down at the motionless girl and sighed.

"I'm not your hero…"


	11. Chapter 11: A Kink in the Chain

When Izzy awoke, she found that she couldn't move and every cell in her being was screaming in agony. She felt her shoulders were burning and a lump at the back of her head throbbing. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was not being able to move, voices had echoed around her and even though she could feel herself moving, it wasn't under her command. Why had it been so difficult to open her eyes? But she knew whose voices she heard, it was _them_.

She looked around the room she was in and almost wished that she could go back to when she couldn't see anything. Her wrists, ankles, waist and were bound to the wall by a series of thick chains what were either covered in rust, or dry blood. She prayed it was rust. Around her neck was a dense metal collar that was also chained to the wall. As much as she struggled, it only made the metal dig further into her skin, she wasn't going anywhere. The room was small and bare, just a single light bulb dangled from the ceiling and a crooked wooden door was set in the wall opposite her. A wooden crate sat in the middle of the room. Everything was silent.

"Johnny?" she called, "Nny are you there?"

Nothing. Just the empty and harsh sounds of silence that seemed to be making her ears implode on themselves. A whimper of horror escaped her as she noticed the large circles of blood that had soaked through her clothes at her shoulders. She managed to grip the sleeve of her T-shirt with her teeth and pull it upwards, revealing the deep wound in her skin. She retched and spat the blood-soaked cloth from her mouth. Did he do that to her? Why? What did she do? She couldn't remember anything!

"Johnny!" she screamed.

Still there was no answer. She tried to slow her heart rate down and breathe deeply, but the smell of her own blood kept making her retch. She slumped down the wall and lay down on the floor as much as the chains would let her. She wasn't scared, she found herself realising, instead she was tired and confused. Two emotions that when mixed can be interpreted as fear. She however did not. Johnny would come to her when he was ready, she knew that. And if he didn't come, then at least she knew that she couldn't hurt anyone here.

Hours passed, or so she presumed. There was no way of telling time in that room. For all she knew, it could well have only been ten minutes, but then again, it could well have been ten days. Her throat burned from thirst and she was doubling over in agony from the hunger. Her clothes had stuck to her skin around the slowly healing wounds, making it sting and rip with every move she made. She wanted to die, she wanted it all to be over. She hated how weak she was sounding, it was pathetic. She cursed herself for it. In a final attempt, she managed to use the wall to push herself up onto her feet. Deep down, she knew that she wasn't going to get anywhere, but she refused to believe it just yet. Her shoulder wounds re-opened as she forced herself from left to right, pulling against the bonds and throwing her head forward, knocking the air out of her. The collar around her neck jerked in protest as she threw herself away from it, making her cough and splutter. She wasn't sure how long she struggled for, but she didn't care either. She gave herself a sharp twist to the right, but her trapped ankles tripped her, sending her crashing to the floor. Her head smacked against the concrete, blurring her vision and bruising her cheek. Her eyes closed in defeat. She let her mind wonder to when she was at home with her family, whenever she had been upset or confused, her mother used to sing to her. Just one song every time, and it worked. Izzy didn't know why, but she clenched her eyes shut tighter and opened her mouth and with her shaky, cracked voice, weak from lack of talking for water, she sang.

"_Don't know much about your life, Don't know much about your world, Don't wanna be alone tonight on this planet they call Earth,_

_You don't know about my past and, I don't have a future figured out, and maybe this is going to fast,_

_And maybe it's not meant to last…_

_But what do you say to taking chances? What do you say to jumping off the edge?_

_Never knowing is there's solid ground below, or a hand to hold, or hell to pay…_

_What do you say? … What do you say?_"

What do I say, thought Izzy, I say I'm going to die here and… I'm okay with that.

She assumed that she had fallen asleep, but she could be sure. All that she knew, was that when she opened her eyes, the wooden crate was no longer pointlessly placed there. It now served a purpose. A tall, skinny figure sat cross legged atop of it, looking down at me with large, dark eyes. Izzy instantly squirmed into sitting position at the sight of him.

"I've never had someone react to three days of isolation and imprisonment with… song…"

"Nny?"

"Very good, nice to see I didn't cause any serious damage." He stated with an arch of an eyebrow.

"Nny, what happened? Why am I chained up? Where are we and… What did I do?"

Johnny had to admire her choice of words in that last question. He had given her perfect opportunity to think that it was him who caused her so much pain and damage, yet she was asking what it was that _she_ had done.

"The Doughboys temporarily possessed you, so I knocked you out when you started to fight them; I chained you up here so what they couldn't move if they tried it again. Now as to where we are, I couldn't give you a direct location. But it is definitely somewhere underground and beneath my house… give or take a few streets, I'm not entirely sure how far these rooms go."

"Did they… I… were you hurt?"

"No, but you were. They made you stab yourself in the shoulder. Nothing serious."

His passive attitude unnerved her slightly, but she was more used to it than before. What was more unnerving was that these voices, these… things… were able to have full control over her mind and body.

"Where are they now? What do they want with me and why do they want us dead?"

Nny pressed his hands together, "Well, it's like this…"

Izzy found it a struggle to keep up with his story. From what she could gather, Mr. Eff wanted her to die so that he could take over her body and become real whereas D-boy wanted Johnny to die so that there was nothing attaching him to this world anymore. Plus the only reason why she could hear them was because she had gotten too close to Nny, or he had gotten too close to her… that she couldn't work out, yet she still felt guilty. Then he explained that they had given him an option. Kill her, or let or kill him.

She gasped, "What? What kind of choice is that? You don't ask someone to do that?"

"Actually, they can, and did. But here's the thing, you see, I can't die. I mean I have, but I came back. It's all very confusing, I'm sorry I can't elaborate. So, killing you would be the best option as it would be easier and wouldn't break the fabric of the universe, but at the same time, having Mr. Eff as a real person would create more problems. Not to mention, it's most impolite to take over someone's body and I can't allow that. It's an abomination. What would you choose?"

She recoiled at the sudden question, "Neither." She continued as he glanced at her questioningly, "I'm not a killer, but like you said, it's an abomination for some creature to take over a human being. So I would just keep myself tied here, then when I do die, they still won't gain anything from it."

He groaned in an animalistic tone, jumping to his feet and kicking the crate back with suck force it cracked against the back wall. He lunged and pulled her up to his eye level.

"What is _wrong_ with you? You give no reasonable answers! You show remorse to everything that has done you wrong and now you're willingly doing to stay as a captive? Or what purpose? How can you be so fearless? What is wrong with you?" he yelled into her face.

She forced herself to look directly into his eyes, "I am not fearless, I am terrified as hell and I don't want to die! But I'd rather die knowing that no one will get hurt at my hands than be forced to kill people again and again starting with you! So call me selfish and just like at the other pieces of scum that you drag down here, but I don't give a shit! It's the right thing to do and I'd rather die doing something right that giving up and following orders from them!"

For a moment they just glared at one another. Rage burning in their eyes, but Izzy didn't care, she didn't look away. Instead, she turned her voice to a whisper, her throat burning even more from shouting at him like that.

"Why, Nny? Does it scare you more that your voices in your head are that much closer to becoming real, or that you're not sure if you can kill someone to save your own life? Maybe you're scared that someone doesn't want you to die? Think about it, why can't you just kill me?"

His grip in her tightened, deliberately pressing his thumbs onto her wounded shoulders. She winced in pain, but refused to act any further on it. He didn't stop adding the pressure until her blood started to warm his skin. He lowered her to the ground and turned on his heel, turning his back on her, folding his arms. He sighed.

"Because I know that you still have a promise hanging over you to that child next door."

Izzy narrowed her eyes, in confusion. He was keeping her alive, for Squee? She wanted to smile, to thank him for caring about the boy as much as she did, but it wasn't just the chains that were holding her back. Instead, she nodded. She knew what she had to do, and it wasn't good. But she didn't care, it was the right thing to do. These things were inside her head now, hers, that meant she had the upper hand. This ends now. Right now.

"Nny, I'm going to do something, but when I do, don't stop me, and just go along with it until you know when to do otherwise."

He sighed, not looking at her, "What are you doing?"

"Just promise me!"

He cocked an eyebrow looking over his shoulder at her, "Fine I promise… Izzy!"

She had slumped down to the floor in a heap, her blank eyes staring up at the ceiling. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the black liquid pooling into her eyes once more. What the hell was she doing? She was giving herself up to them? No, she couldn't! Wait, she had told him not to, he had promised. But what was he supposed to wait for? The left eye was drained of all colour, the black ink forming into an arrow pointing to the left around her eye, the right eye was drowned in the black and white spiral while black lines drained into her skin. They were back, grinning at him menacingly. He clenched his fists, whatever Izzy was planning, she had better do it quickly.

The two, familiar and cruel, devilish voices spoke in unison. Whereas one was hinted in delight, the other burned in anger.

"Well Johnny, it looks like the choice has been made for you…"


	12. Chapter 12: Trail of Thought

At first, she felt nothing. Then that nothing grew into a chilly numbness throughout her body. But she still couldn't move. She couldn't even open her eyes, or maybe there were open and there was just nothing to see? This is how it felt last time. Only, she fought last time. She hated the feeling and instead of accepting the numb darkness, she struggled against it. Not now though, now she lay still and waited. The longer she remained still, the more she could feel. Soon, she felt as though she was able to stand up. It took a great struggle, but she managed to open her eyes.

A shriek of horror slipped past her lips. She was still in the room with Johnny, but standing behind him. He didn't seem to have heard her, and he was glaring at… her. No, that couldn't be her. There were two of her? She looked closely at this imprisoned imposter and gasped as she realised that it was in face her. But her face was different, patterned by black ooze, her eyes either spiralled or blank. It was them, she realised, the voices had each taken a half of her body to control. They were stronger than she thought, so she had to be stronger.

"Johnny?" she called, but he ignored her, "Johnny can you hear me?"

He didn't move. Neither did this thing that was infecting her other self. She tried tapping Nny on the shoulder, but there was no reaction. If she hadn't known any better, she would have guessed that they were statures and not living things. What was going on here?

"It's very simple actually when you think about it."

Izzy jumped and turned towards the calm, welcoming voice behind her and froze at the sight before her. Hovering in front of her was a decapitated rabbits head. Its closed eyes looked lifeless and still, yet it was talking.

"N-Nail-bunny, is it?" she asked, backing away on instinct.

It tilted forward in a nod, "This is the scene you just left, so it makes sense that you should appear here."

"But where is 'here' exactly?"

"Your mind."

She blinked, "…my, my mind?"

"You let them take over you, so while their using your body, you are stuck inside your mind. Don't ask for sympathy, it's not going to come."

She shook her head, "I'm not asking. I have something I need to do. But I think I might need your help."

The head turned in the air and hovered over to the door, "Then let's begin."

She looked at the door with uncertainty, "Won't that just lead to the rest of the house?"

"This is your mind, I don't know what's going to be on the other side…"

She sighed and took one last look at the frozen scene behind her. Well, she wasn't going to get anywhere staying here. With a large intake of air, she forced herself to open the door and walk through. She had expected to be more rooms or a corridor or something that resembled Johnny's house. But instead she now looked out on a large dome of some sort, spreading out for miles under a midnight blue sky. Was she outdoors? No, she couldn't be. Everything was so misshapen, doors seemed to stand alone and she couldn't make out anything clearly. Is this what they had done to her? They'd altered her head into their own little game? She hated them more than ever now.

"Where do we go from here?" she asked.

"That depends on where you want to go. What is it exactly that you want to do?" the bunny answered, floating by her shoulder.

She looked around again in thought, "I want to find the Doughboys. They may be using my body, but they have to be here somewhere."

"Then let's go to somewhere. If that's where they're going to be." He said, jokingly.

"Somewhere…" she breathed.

Clenching her jaw and fists in determination, she walked towards one of the doors that stood alone without a frame or wall to hold it up. Her fingers gripped the rusted handle and turned it harshly. She heard a sharp click as the door opened. Before she even looked inside it, she closed it again. The floating rabbit turned to look at her; if he was able to move his face, she was sure that it would be a look of confusion.

She shrugged, "They're both trying to manipulate me in some way, and they're aware that I can wake up at any time I want if I fight hard enough. They're going to make this hard for me, so an open door is something I'm not looking for."

He nodded, "Very true, but is it wise to go looking for obstacles?"

She shrugged as she opened and closed another three doors, "When was something worth while achieved by taking the easy way?"

As she searched, she found that it was not only doors that could be opened. Occasionally she would come across boxes or books, large and small, filled with things she had said, pictures of memories and even the occasional item from her past. It made sense to her, being in her mind and such. But what she didn't understand was why her mind was set out like this. Doors and boxes, a labyrinth… Maybe she had gone insane. They had messed things up inside of her so much that she couldn't make sense of her own subconscious. She needed to clean this up at some point. She needed to put her mind back in order.

But that would have to wait. She came across a badly damaged crate that looked like it was going to fall apart at any moment and barely even came up to her knees.. Gently, she tried to open it. But the lid was sealed shut. There was faded writing on the side of it that looked like it was written in brown paint. No, that wasn't paint. She ran her finger along it and smelled the metallic stench of blood. She swallowed hard and read it slowly. It was labelled '_Nny_'. She tilted her head and examined the woodwork carefully. She got to her feet and managed to prise loose a large handle off of one of the doors and prise it into the wood. Using it like a crow-bar, she was able to crack the lid and allow it to swing open.

Inside, she found his diary, his comics, beautiful if slightly disturbing works of art, a few blades and a gun… and pictures. There were a few of him and Squee, the boy looking mainly terrified, but there was one when he was smiling as Nny spoke to the stuffed bear… She scanned through more and smiled. There was a memory of the day she had invited him to live with her, the picture was of them sharing a cherry FizWiz and smiling. Another was a memory when he was showing her how to use a weapon correctly. She lingered over one, their kiss, their awkward, slow and confusing kiss. She smiled and replaced the photos to scan through a new selection of pictures. There were also three, one of him sitting on the hood of a car, a slim and pretty girl sitting behind him. The second of the two laughing on his sofa, and the third, the two of them moments later, inches away from each other, their lips just about to touch. On each picture, scribbled under the girl was the label '_the one that got away_'.

"Devi was such a troubled girl, especially after he tried to kill her when the Doughboys told him to."

Izzy jumped, she had forgotten that Nail-Bunny was there, "They told him to kill her? Where is she now?"

"Dealing with a sickness, much like yourself, but she's strong too, she'll be okay."

She didn't know what that meant, so she sighed, "He really liked her, right?"

"Does that upset you?"

She shook her head, "Actually, no it doesn't… It's nice to know that he had someone…"

Deep down, Izzy did feel a little disappointed that he still had feelings for this girl. But it seemed that she had been good for him. Maybe when all of this was over, she could find her. If she got out of this, that is.

"Why is all this stuff here?"

"With us here, you have a connection to Johnny, so some things may pass over from time to time."

She nodded and removed the gun from the box. It was heavy in her hands and felt smooth and cold. He didn't need that in there, it was a horrible reminder. He hated guns, so why should he be forced to hold onto one in his head? She shoved the gun into the side of her belt and replaced the lid on the crate. So her search continued. More doors, more memories, more nothing. Everything was too easy to find, yet nothing made sense. She wondered what was going on outside her body, it felt like she had been there for hours… But then again, she thought, it always seems like dreams last longer than they actually are, so maybe an hour here was a minute in real time…

Suddenly, she came across a steep hill. She looked down at the sheer decline and gritted her teeth, slowly edging her way downwards. Something caught her foot and she tripped, sending her spinning wildly out of control. The air was knocked out of her as her body smacked harshly against something solid. She coughed and gasped for air as she rolled onto her back and sound that she had collided with another door. Only this one was made from stone, the handle was a dangerously sharp blade. Strangely enough, she found herself smiling. She scrambled to her feet and gingerly grabbed hold of the dagger-handle. Pain instantly shot though her palm. There was no way she was going to open this without causing some damage to herself. She looked at the hovering rabbits head and sighed.

"I think you have found the obstacle you wanted." He commented.

"Yeah… this is it…" she replied, more to herself than him.

She removed her jacket and wrapped it around the handle to cushion the blade and replaced her grip. However, she may as well have not bothered with the jacket. The blade cut through it easily and began to saw its way into her skin. Izzy gritted her teeth in agony as she forced herself to continue, turning the blade-handle in her hands, scraping away a layer of skin as she went. Hot, scarlet liquid began to trickle down her arms, dripping down from her elbows. Her hands felt like they were on fire.

There was a satisfying click, as the handle finally turned. She gasped in pain as she released her grip and began to push the heavy door open. The weight of the stone made her weak, a sweat forming on her brow. She was just thankful that she didn't need to pull the door, that blade would have slit her wrists if she had had to. Finally, the door was open wide enough for her to squeeze through. Her blooded handprints dribbled down the door, melting into the stone.

Once inside, she found herself looking down a sheer drop, an endless black abyss before her. Attached to the cliffs edge, were two thick ropes. No, not ropes, vines of some sort, but thicker. They travelled down into the darkness, their ending out of sight.

"What's this?" she asked the rabbit head.

Nail-Bunny floated out into the open air and looked down, "This looks like the _root_ of their plans for you. Pardon the pun. They're down there, but what are you going to do?"

She sighed, "What am I able to do?"

"Well, you can turn back and forever live with them lurking in your brain, taking over when they please. Or you can cut the roots right here, leaving them trapped inside your head."

"I don't like either of those, sorry." She shrugged.

"Don't apologise for not liking the position that you're in." he said calmly, "However, you could go down there and confront them yourself. But if you make it back out again… no one can tell. I'm sorry for the predicament."

She smiled, "Don't apologise for not liking the position that I'm in." she gritted her teeth in pain as she bent down and took one root in her hands, "I'm going down there. But I am going to make it out again."

And with that, she released her grip on the cliff and shimmied downwards into the darkness. Soon she was in such a state of gloom that she couldn't even see the root she was holding onto. She was climbing downwards for what seemed like hours. She had no idea what was going to be down there, but she knew that she was going to beat it. There was no question about that.

Her heel hit solid ground, making her knees buckle beneath her. She found herself in a tunnel of some kind, a small light flickered at the end. Instantly, she made her way towards it. She was getting tired and weak by this point. Her hands burned and were starting to dry, which meant a sharp pain every time she moved them, causing them to re-open. Wait… She paused, she could hear something. Voices…

She started running towards them, gun pulled from her belt and poised ready. She knew those voices, they had haunted her nightmares, infected her mind… She was blinded by the sudden light in the room. Her eyes watered from the brightness, but she blinked rapidly to overcome it. Stood in front of her, grinning savagely, were two Styrofoam figures. She glared at them, anger pulsating through her. She aimed the gun, this was going to be quick, and easy, she thought to herself.

"So we meet in person, at last." Sneered Mr. Eff, "It shall be so much more of a victory killing you here than having you mess it up yourself."

"No, idiot," snapped D-boy, "can't you see she's here to kill us, to end our existence, just like we want!"

"What you want you mean, selfish!"

"What does it matter, as soon as she kills us, we won't exist, and the very roots of our ideas will vanish along with us, trapping her here. We both get what we want in a way. Who cares if she can't make it out…"

"HA! So she can't kill us without getting trapped!"

Izzy clicked the safety off on the gun, stopping their argument and grabbing their attention. They eyed her suspiciously. She had no idea that she would be trapped, but at that moment, she didn't care. This ended now.

Johnny glared at the possessed figure before him. How could Izzy have been so stupid? How could she give up to them so willingly? Maybe she was just like all the other pieces of scum out in the world, to scared to face reality and hide away because it's easier. He was disgusted. He should kill her and them along with her right now. But he had made a promise, and he had yet to break one. He wasn't sure how long he had kept up this stance of anger, but it was interrupted by the voice of D-boy, Izzy's head tilting to the right.

"Has she left you Nny? Just like everyone else has? Why not untie us, we can kill you quickly, put you out of your misery…"

Her head spanned to the left, changing voices, "No, untie us so that we can kill her, we're still putting you out of your misery that way…"

He stood and listened to them arguing, persuading him, he wasn't really listening anyway. They shouted, they pleased, they demanded, but he refused to move. How long were they going to keep it up? He had chosen to remain still, so that he could focus more on his promise. He had promised to go along with it, listen to them, hear them argue etc… But he was not to react until he knew otherwise. But what a pointless request, what was he waiting for? What was he meant to do when it happened, whatever it was? Why so many cryptic results to such plentiful questions?

All of a sudden, everything went deadly quiet. Something about their painted faces altered, making Izzy's face distorted and alien to him. They started talking again, but not to him. Something was going on in their minds, but he couldn't figure out what.

"So we meet in person, at last." Sneered Mr. Eff, "It shall be so much more of a victory killing you here than having you mess it up yourself."

She? Were they talking to Izzy? Nny arched his brow, almost in admiration. How had she managed to find them, was she inside her own mind? He should try that some time…

"No, idiot," snapped D-boy, "can't you see she's here to kill us, to end our existence, just like we want!"

"What you want you mean, selfish!"

"What does it matter, as soon as she kills us, we won't exist, and the very roots of our ideas will vanish along with us, trapping her here. We both get what we want in a way. Who cares if she can't make it out…"

"HA! So she can't kill us without getting trapped!"

Nny's jaw tightened, trapped? What did that mean? All of s sudden, Izzy's body gave a violent jolt within the chains. Her head swung to the left as Mr.. Eff screamed. Nny watched in fascination and horror as the ink from his side of her face pored away, dripping down her chin and staining her clothes. There was an awful silence. Her head slowly tilted back to the right in time for D-boy to whisper.

"Does this mean I'm free?" there was a pause where Nny presumed that Izzy was answering before D-boy grinned, "Thank you…"

Her body gave another violent jolt, and the remaining ink dribbled away into her clothes. Gone… They were both gone. Nny felt like a huge weight had been lifted from him, he breathed and edged his way closer to the still girl before him. She wasn't dead, he knew that much. Her eyes were still bright, blinking every so often and her chest was moving rhythmically as she breathed. He untied her and pushed her into sitting position.

"Izzy? Can you hear me?" no answer, he shook her by the shoulders, "Izzy! Snap out of it!"

He looked at the crate that he had kicked aside earlier and rummaged around in it, pulling out a dagger. He gently pressed the tip of the blade into her bare arm, starting near the shoulder. She gave no reaction. He pressed a little harder until blood started to surface. Still, nothing. He felt a surge of child-like wonder, the kind that kids get when they see something dead and have the urge to poke it with a stick. Slowly, to get a better reaction, he dragged the blade down her arm, slicing the skin in a single, smooth line, stopping at the elbow. Blood trickled down onto the floor, but she still gave no reaction. He sighed and felt tears forming. He was alone. She was trapped. He was now free from the Doughboys. She had sacrificed herself to achieve that.

She may as well be dead…


	13. Chapter 13: Empty and Envious

Izzy sank to her knees, her hands trembling as she struggled to keep hold of the gun. The two Styrofoam figures lay in pieces before her. A pool of black ink soaking around her legs. She panted for air, frozen in disgust at herself. She'd killed two people, even if they weren't alive, they were still real. She'd killed real beings. Adrenalin pulsed through her. A small smile twitched at her mouth, was she happy? Her answer was given to her by a burst of laughter pushing its way past her lips, echoing in the quiet. She pushed herself up and shoved the gun into her belt. She turned her back on them, she'd done what she came to do, they were no threat to her any more. Now, she made her way back down the tunnel and towards the cliff that she had scaled down. True to their words however, the vines had vanished, rotted away without their creators to keep them planted. Her arms felt blindly out in front of her until she found the wall of the cliff. In the blackness, she found that the face was uneven. She narrowed her eyes and started climbing. She was stuck, so she'd been told, but she didn't care. This was her mind, her thoughts, her world… and it was a mess. She would clean up her mind, fix the damage that had been done… and she would get out. No matter how long it took her.

Johnny found that she was like a doll. If he pulled her up to her feet, she would stand on her own. If he lifted her arm, it would stay there on its own for a minute or so, then drop limply back to her side. Her eyes, shining bright and blinking once in a while, looked straight through him, not focused on anything in particular. He looked at the wound he had inflicted on her arm and shuddered at the fresh blood that tricked down. He decided that it was going to get infected, and even though he knew that she wasn't coming back to him, he couldn't leave it like that. Hmm, he thought sitting her back down, Squee usually has some bactine or something… Yeah…

He looked behind him at the motionless girl, he wasn't sure what he was feeling when he laid eyes on her. It wasn't guilt because he hadn't asked for made her to do what she did. It wasn't grieving because she wasn't dead. He wasn't sure, but there was something. He shrugged it off and travelled upwards through the lower levels of the house until he was out in the open. He breathed in the night air and started climbing the wall that would take him up to his young neighbours' bedroom. As his hands grasped the window-sill, he noticed the sky. It was dark, yet peaceful, not a single cloud in the sky so the stars could encircle the crescent moon perfectly. He paused to take it in, memorising it so that such a beautiful sight would not be forgotten so soon.

"Uh… Nny?" a small, shaky voice muttered from above, "Is that you?"

Johnny looked upwards and smiled at the wide, frightened eyes looking down at him. He nodded and hoisted himself through the window. The small child clutched his teddy closer to him, backing away a few steps.

"Good evening, Squee, didn't wake you, did I?" he asked, tousling the boys hair.

He shook his head, "I heard bad things from your house again…"

Nny hesitated, "Well, I'm not going to lie and insult your intelligence as well as try and shield you from the horrors of truth… Yes, Squee, you did, because bad things have been happening. Do you happen to have any more anti-septic?"

Squee nodded, leading him to the bathroom where Nny opened the medicine cupboard and pulled out the bottle.

"Can I take this with me? I'll replace it in time." He waited for the child to nod before continuing, "Walk me out?"

As the went back to Squee's bedroom, Nny found himself on edge, more than usual. The look in the boys eye, he knew that something wasn't right. Not just in the usual sense but… like he knew specifically that this was serious.

"Where's Izzy?"

That was the fatal question. Nny felt his blood turn to ice in his veins.

"Daddy wanted to go out and work the other day, but Izzy didn't answer the phone. And then I heard the bad things…"

Squee was scared. He always was. But this was different because he was scared of the answer to his question, not what he thought the answer was. He didn't know how to explain it. He wanted to know, but was scared to find out. Still, he clutched his bear and waited patiently for an answer.

"Izzy… Izzy is going away for a while."

"Like you did before?"

"That's right… like me." He sighed, lifting his leg out of the window, he needed to get away from this before he did or said something that he would maybe regret.

"Okay. So she's coming back then. You did."

He admired the child's logic, but couldn't agree with it. Neither could he agree on an appropriate answer for him. So instead, he just lifted himself out of the window and waved goodbye.

"Thanks for the bactine, I'll see you soon, Squee…"

He sprinted back into his house and slammed the door behind him, gasping for breath. Why had that been so difficult? He couldn't understand it. But he just couldn't bring himself to tell that child that the only person in the world who ever promised him something was never going to see him again. That she had been dragged inside her own mind to rot. That her promise was broken. He clenched his fists and didn't notice how hard until he heard the plastic cap of the anti-septic bottle start to crack. He flinched at the sound. Oh yeah, he thought, that's what I was doing.

Back down in the lower levels where he had left Izzy, he found that she had not moved an inch. He rolled his eyes as he extended her arm, the blood now starting to dry in rust-like cracks in her skin. He poured the liquid on a towel that he has grabbed on the way and pressed it against her skin. Whenever he had done this to himself, it had stung like a bitch, yet she remained unfazed and ignorant to his actions. He tied the towel around her and forced her to stand before lifting her up into his arms, carrying her upstairs into a bedroom that had gone many a year without use. Dust coated every surface, clouding into the air as he lay her down on the sheets. He opened a bottle of water from the fridge and lifted it to her lips, her reflexes kicked in and forced her to swallow. But she was still unaware of what she was doing. He could have given her arsenic and she would have taken it.

She just… lay there. Motionless. It wasn't right. He reached out and closed her eyes, giving the impression that she was sleeping. That was better. Now he could feel at ease, tricking himself into thinking that everything was okay now. She was just sleeping. He smiled and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Everything would be better in the morning, he told himself. But now, he needed to get out of the house. Maybe he would come back in the morning, or the day after. Two days, he decided, he would go away for two day, then when he came back, she would be up and awake. Two days. That's all it would take…

It had been three weeks.

Johnny had returned after his promised two day escape to find that the remaining water in the bottle had gone stagnant in the dust. The darkness had grown all the more, and Izzy… Izzy still lay in the same sprawled out position, eyes still clothes, he breathing shallow. He had been angry, grabbing her and shaking her screaming for her to wake up. Nothing. He opened her eyes, but they stared right through him. He had no choice, he'd have to wake her up himself.

Now, Johnny had finished forcing the soup he had made down Izzy's throat and looked at her carefully. Her skin was almost as pale and sallow as his, Dark circles puffed out profusely beneath her eyes and her lips had gotten terribly chapped. Her hair hung limp and scraggly while her body was getting thinner, weaker, more brittle.

His efforts at waking up the girl had been fruitless. He had fed her, poured water down her throat and spoken to her many times. He ventured to more drastic ways of bringing her back. He had pushed burning sporks to her skin, leaving angry red scars, pouring barrels of ice-water over her. Holding her head under water for longer than necessary. The most he had gotten out of her was a cough. Just a cough. Nothing more. Three weeks and the only thing he had gotten from her was a cough.

Anger burned up inside him. He jumped to his feet and threw the bowl against the wall where is smashed into shards before his eyes. He lunged at Izzy, grabbing her by the shoulders, sinking his nails into her flesh until he could feel it scraping away. He shook her before forcing her backwards where her head collided with the head-board. He pulled her back into sitting position and snatched at one of the broken shards.

"Selfish! Bitch! Thinking! Of! Yourself!" he screamed, forcing the shard into her skin with each word.

Growing more angry with her unresponsive exterior. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her off of the bed and into the living room. He found one of his blades and dangled it over her threateningly. It looked as though she didn't even see it. He crouched down to whisper in her ear.

"Think it was big and clever to go off and be _noble_, did you? Did you really feel that you were doing me a favour, or that you owed me something? Well, sorry to disappoint, Izzy, but I'm afraid you didn't! And just because I told you that I wasn't your hero, gives you no right to try and be mine!"

He slashed the blade down so that it embedded deep in her thigh, he pulled it back into the open before returning it into her skin, this time above her right shoulder blade.

"And you know what? You deserve this really! If you look for trouble, you're going to find it, plain and simple. For example, I went looking for trouble without even knowing it the night I took you to the hospital, and now I'm stuck with trouble!"

He pierced the palm of her hand and ripped the weapon back into the air. His voice was burning in rage and malicious disgust.

"Do you think I enjoy this Izzy? Do you think I like nursing you like some ignorant child? I must admit it's not something I planned on doing with my time! Do you want me to thank you Izzy? Is that it? Thank you for riding me of the Doughboys? Not going to happen, you know! Or is it an apology you're looking for? Hmmm? Sorry Izzy, I shouldn't have dragged you into this? Is that it? Here I go disappointing you again! It's not going to happen!"

He sliced her stomach, ripping her top and leaving a large gash in her skin. The blade was pressed heavily against her throat. Her eyes just stared past him, the vacant and empty expression never changing. He was disgusted to find that he had tears pouring down his face. His arms shook with effort, he wanted to slit her throat right there, but he couldn't. There was something stopping him. Was it the knowledge that the Izzy he knew was still inside there somewhere? Or was it that with the Doughboys gone, killing wasn't apart of him anymore? He had to test this theory.

He pulled away from her and got to his feet. He looked down at the cut, bruised figure, droplets of blood trickling here and there. He sighed and said more calmly:

"You know, I envy your position. It must be such a wonderful feeling to be free from such suffering. No pain. No regret. And to leave it all behind on such a selfless act. Yet, your selflessness still eludes me. And yes, I do still find it selfish. I'm envious, Izzy, envious that I can't achieve such a state of peace… and I never will…"

Later that night, Nny returned, covered in stains of scarlet liquid. He brushed himself down and walked into his room to change his clothes. Well, he had answered one question anyway. Even without the Doughboys, he could still kill. Yet he was still unsure as to whether he was relieved or depressed about that fact. Maybe both. It was in his nature, so it was nice to know that he hadn't changed and was still himself.

He looked down at Izzy in the living room, still unmoved, still wounded. Her current weak state made her skin slow to repair, leaving ugly bruises around her forming scars and blooded wounds. Why had he done this? He wondered to himself. He wasn't regretful, but a little annoyed that he had done it when she literally hadn't done anything to him.

The envy still burned within him. He wanted that peace, that escape. To be hurt so much and yet feel none of it, bliss. Hesitantly, he reminded himself that it was pain and suffering that gave some humans the incentive to feel, to know that they were alive… but no, he didn't want to believe that this time. He was not like the other humans out there. He was himself, in here. So if he wanted this peace, then he would give it to himself.

The blade was still covered in her blood, so he quickly washed it. This was his moment, not to be involved with her. He looked at his reflection in the weapon and grinned. He wondered where he would end up this time, maybe this time he could have some of his questions answered. But he knew one thing… For once in his life, people were not going to leave and walk out on him. It was him who would be leaving them.

A laugh of triumph escaped him as he forced the blade into his chest. Again. Again. Again. He laughed at every move, every wound, every stab. The room was starting to darken, he was leaving, he could feel it. Take that, he thought, I'm the one getting away this time!

_**Authors Note: Hi, please don't get angry at me or give up on this story because of this last bit, I promise that there is still more to come from both characters! Also, I would just like to clarify something. Nny has not tried to kill himself because he wants to be with Izzy or because he can't live without her or any of that romantic lovey-dovey stuff, this is Nny we're talking about. He has done it because he hates that another person has left him and wants revenge by being the one to leave for once, he feels like it's his fault but can't admit to it and doesn't understand why she would do that for him and this thinks she's selfish for making him think this, and also, he's envious of her state of peace and wants it too. Okay, with that cleared up, either wait for the next update or carry on reading, whichever is the option at the time. Thank you –x-**_


	14. Chapter 14: Reversed Roles

Izzy sighed and brushed the sweat from her forehead, closing another door behind her. She smiled, looking around at the landscape with a sense of pride and longing. The sky over her was now s powder blue instead of a menacing dark gloom. All of the distorted figured that had been spread throughout her mind were either re-shaped and sorted, or destroyed. She was not aware of time in here. She wasn't even aware of how long it had taken her to get to this point. Her mind wondered back to that dark, isolated climb. One moment, it had felt like she had only just begun, the next, she was sure years had passed, but she had made it. The moment her fingers had dug into the dirt at the top of the cliff, she felt as through she could breath. The door had shut behind her, the bladed handle falling to the ground. That part of her mind was over, she had no need for it any longer.

The rest of her mind however had still been in taters from the Doughboys reign from within. It had taken a long time, or at least she presumed so, to put everything back in order, but she had done it. Everything was back in place, nothing left behind, back in her control. Actually, no, one thing did remain. The broken crate with Johnny's name scribbled on the side. That was still his, she had no place for it among her mind. It was full of the good things in his life, what right had she to keep it from him?

"I can sense your pride in your work," Nail-Bunny sighed, hovering by her shoulder, "I haven't felt that since Nny finished his last painting…"

"He used to paint?"

"Used to." He nodded, "Until he lost his muse…"

"Would it be in here?" she offered, tapping the crate lightly.

"No. _That_ he must find in his own mind, on his own. It's hidden pretty well actually, even me, a creation of his own imagination, couldn't find it for him…"

Izzy nodded, "So, where do we put this?"

"Oh, it'll go back to him when you leave, it's you that keeps it here by looking for a place for it."

She jolted at his words, "Leave? I'm trapped… remember?"

"No, you've been free to leave since you closed that blade-handled door. You chose to tidy things up… remember?"

Joy overwhelmed her. Finally, she could go home. Be free. See Johnny and her family again! She wanted to hug the decapitated head, but was unsure if it was appropriate, or even possible. Instead, she found herself laughing.

"A good choice though, I admit. You have my sympathies…"

She paused and looked at the rabbit head questioningly. A gasp of horror escaped her as she noticed that she could almost see right through him. He was fading, getting weaker by the minute.

"You're fading. What's going on, I haven't tried to leave yet!" she cried desperately, not wanting him to leave her just yet.

"It appears that Nny has been getting more and more agitated in your absence… He wants the isolation and emptiness that you currently possess, so he's chosen to gain it himself… He's dying, Izzy… And I with him…"

Izzy felt herself choke, "No! No, please, go to him, stop him! Tell him I'm on my way! How long have I been gone anyway? It can't have been more than a day or so… or maybe… a week at most… I don't know!"

"Almost a month." He echoed, he was barely an outline now, "I'll do my best, but I don't think I can make it in time. Goodbye, Izzy, it's been wonderful to meet you…"

With that, Nail-Bunny vanished into the air. Dissolved among the particles of air. Izzy gasped for breath and looked around her. How did she get out? Last time, she had to fight against the Doughboys to regain control of her body, but now there was nothing to fight, so how did she wake up? Wait a minute… wake up! That was it! She looked at the gun that still remained tucked into her belt and pulled it out.

She shook violently. When she had killed the Doughboys, it had released them, stopped them from existing because they had no body to go to. But she did have a body. But would it work? She hesitantly lifted the gun to her temple and gripped the trigger. Her hand trembled, but she had to do it. The fear of pain and the unknown was overwhelming. She clenched her eyes shut… and she pulled the trigger.

Her eyes snapped open and she forced herself from the floor, gasping for air, a cold sweat coating her entire body making her shiver. Instantly, she screamed from the pain. Her eyes traced her body, covered in scarlet stains as new wounds were scattered here and there. The pain was unbelievable, made worse by the sight of her own blood spattering on the floor. A cold grey floor… She looked around at the room she was in and noticed the tattered brown sofa and old TV. She knew this place. She was in Johnny's living room. She was back.

Johnny.

She cringed through the pain and got to her feet. Her left leg was totally dead from the wound, so she dragged it along behind her. She found what she was looking for on the other side of the room, huddled in a heap on the floor, laying in a pool of its own blood. Izzy whimpered as she prised the blooded weapon from his cold hands and turned him to face her. His eyes were closed. She tried to open them, but they were rolled back and unresponsive. She tried to feel for a pulse, but he looked so fragile that she was terrified that she would hurt him more. The open wounds outnumbered her own, bleeding more profusely.

Tears poured down her face, terror gripped her throat, disabling her motor skills. She could move. She could only stare. This was the second time she had ever cried like this, and also the second time that she was this terrified. Sure, she had cried and been scared before, but not like this. This was different, this was something that she had no control over. She screamed and started shaking him by the shoulders, his head limply rolling to the side. She called his name and screamed in his face, but nothing worked.

She looked around for a phone and saw one next to the sofa, she dragged herself over and dialled the emergency number. She gritted her teeth and explained that two people had been attacked and to send an ambulance. For a moment, she remembered that Nny had told her the he can never be caught, did that count for ambulances? Instead of risking no one coming to help, she gave the address for Squee's house instead. But that wasn't enough, she forced herself to her feet and grabbed Johnny under the arms, limping as she dragged him outside into the open. Rain poured down, washing the blood from their wounds. Pooling it away into the grass. Icy rain mixed with her cold tears as she tripped and fell to the ground, pain burning as the mud seeped into her wounds.

"Izzy?" she heard a quiet voice from above her, she looked and felt a pang of guilt as she saw the little child next door looking down from his window, "You're alive."

It wasn't a question, she knew that much, "That's right, we just had a bit of an accident… Go back to bed now, okay." she wanted to get up and comfort him, but she had lost all feeling in her legs, no child should have to see this.

All of a sudden, a siren sliced through the air as an ambulance hurtled down the road. It came screeching to a halt outside the house and people came rushing towards them. The started asking questions, but Izzy couldn't make out any of the words. She felt herself being lifted into the air, Johnny by her side. However, as she was being lain down on the stretcher, she did hear one voice clearly.

"You're both coming back, right?" Squee asked, leaning from his window, eyes wide as he clutched his bear.

Izzy didn't know what to say.

"You'll always be there, remember? Promise?"

Before she had a chance to answer him, the doors to the ambulance slammed shut. A small pain tingled in her arm, just below the shoulder. She eyed it with hatred, blaming it for not giving her a chance to answer. Her eyes caught a think needle being removed from her skin. Little by little, her vision became darker and darker. Until it was as if she was struggling to climb that cliff all over again.

Nny lay on the hospital bed, Izzy sitting next to him, clutching his hand. She wasn't sure if he could hear her, or even if he would take kindly to her touching him, but she couldn't help it. The dark room was lit only by the moonlight from outside and the flashing light of the heart monitor. A thin strip of light was curving against the still shape of his cheek.

It hadn't taken long for the doctors to stitch her up and give her the all clear. They had all commented on how it was remarkable that she didn't have any severe internal damage. Any other person would have gone mad from the pain long ago. She didn't mention that she had not even been conscious, let alone in the same room mentally during the attack, neither had she mentioned who the attacker was or that Johnny's wounds were self inflicted. No one would understand. So she didn't try and make them. It had taken way too long for her to be able to see Johnny again. But now she had, it was unbearable.

Guilt overpowered her. She had been selfish. If she had just gotten out when she had first been able to, then he wouldn't have done this. But her mind had been falling apart at the seams, there was no way she could have felt it like that… But if she did, could she have helped him? The question was more than she could take. She was lost, she was alone, and he may as well be dead…

Izzy felt a sudden impulse. She didn't know why, but it was pushing her forward. Whenever she was home, and something bad happened, her mother used to sing to her. Just one song. Izzy needed that song right now. So she looked down at Nny, gripping his limp hand, and softly sang to him.

"_Don't know much about your life, Don't know much about your world, Don't wanna be alone tonight on this planet they call Earth,_

_You don't know about my past and, I don't have a future figured out, and maybe this is going to fast,_

_And maybe it's not meant to last…_

_But what do you say to taking chances? What do you say to jumping off the edge?_

_Never knowing is there's solid ground below, or a hand to hold, or hell to pay…_

_What do you say? … What do you say?_"

She stopped, feeling a lump rise at the back of her throat. It wasn't helping, she knew it wouldn't and never expected it to, but she thought that it would at least make her feel a little better. It did nothing. It was pointless, much like this hospital. Nny wasn't going to make it. What use was a stupid song?

"I say, finish the song…"

Her eyes tore away from the floor and up towards the source of the voice. Nny, still pale and motionless, had a twitch of a smile in the corner of his mouth, his large eyes moving beneath his closed eyelids.

"Finish the song… it's growing on me…" he whispered, hardly able to talk.

She obeyed, her voice shaking with disbelief and joy.

"_I just wanna start again, and maybe you could show me how to try,_

_And maybe you could take me in… somewhere underneath you skin!_

_What do you say to taking chances? What do you say to jumping off the edge?_

_Never knowing is there's solid ground below, or a hand to hold, or hell to pay…_

_What do you say? … What do you say?_

_And I have my heart beaten down, but I always come for more, yeah, there's nothing like l -_"

He pressed a finger to her lips, still not opening his eyes, "I like the chorus… Skip to the last part…"

"_What do you say to taking chances? What do you say to jumping off the edge?_

_Never knowing is there's solid ground below, or a hand to hold, or hell to pay…_

_What do you say? … What do you say?_

_Don't know much about your like, and I don't know much about your world…_"

There was silence as she finished the song. He flickered his eyes open, they were bloodshot and heavy, but he kept them open. Slowly, he managed to push himself into sitting position. He sighed.

"Another suicide attempt failed, it's depressing in its own way, wouldn't you say?" he asked looking around, taking in his surroundings, "Hmm, so this is how you felt when I brought you to the hospital… you know I've never been good with empathy…"

She laughed, tears of joy pouring down her face, she wanted to wrap her arms around him, but wouldn't dare for his still fragile wounds.

"I'm so sorry, Nny, if I'd know that you were this bad, I would have come back sooner."

He arched his brow, "It's easy to explain what might have been, it's much harder to accept the present, but do try, it'll save time."

His tone was unrecognisable. Izzy wasn't sure of he was happy, disappointed, annoyed… anything.

"I presume you've done everything you needed in there?" he asked, tapping his own temple to indicate hers.

She nodded, "They're gone, you're free from them now…"

"Free? None of us are ever free, Izzy, but I thank you removing one of the chains from me. So to speak."

She smiled and tried to grip his hand tighter, but he gently pulled away. He removed the monitors from his body and scrambled to his feet. He swayed, but composed himself.

"Where are you going? They need to keep an eye on you! Please, just until I know you're okay!" she found herself begging and was ashamed of it.

He stopped and lingered in the doorway, a smirk pulling at the side of his face, "Aren't I always in the end?" he bowed low, just like he did when he first introduced himself to her, "There's much for me to do, Izzy, and like I have said before to another, I cannot harm what I don't acknowledge, so this is goodbye."

He straightened up, Izzy, knowing that there was no point in calling for help, followed him into the corridor.

"I'll find you, you know me better than to just give up." She laughed, arching her brow, trying to make a joke out of the horror she felt inside.

He scoffed and folded his arms, "It's for you own good, and anyway," he turned on his heel and walked away from her, "I can't be caught, remember?"

"It's not goodbye, Nny," she called as he vanished around a corner, "I promise that much!"


	15. Chapter 15: What Do You Say?

"Do you see him anymore?" Izzy asked softly.

The child shook his head, "Not as much, he says it's because he knows you'll be here. So he doesn't visit as much…"

"Okay, never mind, at least he still shows up sometimes." She smiled, tickling him to hear him laugh.

Izzy tucked Squee into bed, nuzzling his bear close to his arm. She still thought about calling social services, but now, after knowing Nny for so long and seeing how he took care of Squee from time to time, she wasn't sure if it was necessary any more. Now and again, she would knock on the door of number 777, but there would be no answer and breaking in seemed to not be the best idea. Instead, she just kept watch.

Squee was asleep before she even closed the curtains. A slam of a door downstairs told her that the parents were home. She sighed and trudged downstairs to collect her pay and then leave. She knew that there was no point in knocking the door to 777, but she did so anyway. It had been almost two months since he had left her at the hospital. Something inside of her told her that he wasn't dead, or far, but for all she logically knew, he could be anywhere.

However, those two months had not been wasted. In that time, she had managed to find out about 'the one that got away' from a local artist website. Her sharp, pretty features were hard to mistake. Her name was Devi D and had just been recognised for her new work that she had labelled 'The Sickness'. It was a disturbing painting, but had a certain charm to it that Izzy could relate to. It had taken a lot longer to actually get in contact with the girl, but as soon as she mentioned Nny, things were different…

Izzy was jarred from her thoughts as she noticed that her friend texted, saying that she was going to be late in picking her up. Izzy sighed and replied, telling her to get her at the coffee shop instead. Izzy didn't know why she bothered texting that, it was where she always got picked up nowadays. She followed the familiar route in the darkness and stepped into the low-lit café. She ordered her usual drink.

As usual, the place was full. She sighed and went to stand by the window. The night was cool and cloudless, the stars bright and more prominent that usual. She jumped as she locked her eyes on her own in the reflection of the window. She found herself more jumpy than usual lately, and she didn't know why. It was really started to grate on her, but there was nothing she could do about it. A good twenty minutes later, her lift arrived, taking her away from the dark atmosphere of the café, and back home.

"Congratulations Izzy!"

Izzy blushed, embarrassed by the sudden attention she was getting by other strangers in the room. She sat at the head of the table in the café and looked down at the members of her family. It had been graduation day, and she had achieved honours, finally free to make her mark on the world. Her degree was clutched in her hand and still clad in the graduation robes. She was proud of herself, but didn't like the sudden attention she was getting, it was too much.

Her mother lifted her arm for a toast and laughed, hugging her daughter one armed. Normally, families would have gone out to a fancy restaurant for a celebration such as this, however, despite its size and smiles, they were not that wealthy. Not to mention that Izzy rather little places like this instead of fancy Ritz-style places where people just stared down their noses in disgust.

She laughed as she saw her youngest cousin of a year and a half attempting to clap his hands together. Izzy saw her little sister hold his fists gently and guide him so that he did it properly. This was nice. She'd missed moments like these. Especially after they had been so sick with panic during her month long absence. It had taken much convincing on her part to allow them to come to this area, but this was her favourite place at the moment. Busy, yet isolated. Crowded, but not pushy. It was just that perfect amount of capacity where everyone was too wrapped up in their own business to be nosy. Which helped when they were celebrating as well as entertaining a series of small children. Izzy turned to look at the coffee drinkers around her. She jumped, nearly spilling her drink on her robes.

"Everything okay, Iz?" her mother asked.

"Uh…" she composed herself, "Yeah, fine, can I just go over there a minute, I think I see a friend of mine."

Her mother nodded and playfully shooed her away. Izzy grinned appreciatively and got to her feet. No, it couldn't be. But who else was that thin? No one had eyes that wide. But it couldn't be…

Izzy gently walked up to the figure sitting alone at the sofa, he hadn't noticed her approaching. She swiftly placed both hands on his shoulders, making him jolt and turn to glare at her. She grinned at his reaction and gripped him tighter.

"I thought you couldn't be caught, yet here we are." She smirked.

His expression relaxed a little as he recognised her, but not by much, "First time for everything, so they say…" he looked at her clothes, "Interesting change of style…"

She shrugged, "I graduated today. Mind if I…" she nodded at the empty seat next to him.

He shrugged and leant back in his seat, arching an eyebrow at her as she took the seat.

"I've missed you, how've you been?" she said, smiling.

"I've been around, nothing much really, but another break from home has been good. Yourself? Good I'm guessing considering you're current situation and… company." He nodded at her family.

She shrugged, "Yeah, true. I've been looking for you, I've been worried."

"You shouldn't have. I haven't killed anyone if that's what your getting at?" he paused, "Well, one person, but that hardly counts if he was dressed as a clown." He waved his hand passively.

Izzy chose to ignore that last statement, "I've… got something for you…"

He eyed her questioningly as she pulled out a tattered piece of scrap paper from her pockets. She handed it to him and waited expectantly. He unfolded it and saw a telephone number and e-mail address. He looked at the name and Izzy watched in awe as his eyes widened even further.

"How did you find this?" he asked, not sure if he was happy or angry.

"I have my ways. Give her a call or something, she's ready to listen properly this time. But only if you don't give her one of those recorded messages. I'm with her on that one, sorry."

He leaned in so that he was inches from her face, getting a good look at her eyes, "Why would you that for me?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe I want the hero of this story to get the girl. The right girl."

He sighed, "I've told you before, many a time, I'm not a -"

"I know, you think you're the villain." She moaned playfully, "Look up a Byronic hero, you may think a little differently after."

They paused as Izzy felt something tugging on the sleeve of her robe. She looked down to see her little sister, she was about Squee's age, looking up at her with large, curious eyes.

"Mummy wants to know if your friend wants to come over too." She looked at Nny curiously, "Are you Izzy's boyfriend?"

"No," both Izzy and Nny said together, Izzy smirked.

"Yeah you are! You're her friend _and _you're a boy. So you are her boyfriend!" the child grinned, tapping his knee.

"Jade!" Izzy scoffed, rolling her eyes.

He tilted his head at the gril, "Well… Aren't you literal minded? I can't argue with that logic."

Izzy knew that her sister didn't know what 'literal' or 'logic' was by definition, but she still grinned in triumph all the same.

"So will you be my boyfriend too?" she asked.

Nny froze as Izzy turned her head to contain her laughter. Nny narrowed his eyes on little Jade and allowed himself a smile of mild admiration. The innocence in a child's mind was, after all, something that had to be admired, before it was tainted with the scum of the world around it. If Squee was this outspoken, he wouldn't have so many problems, Nny thought. He decided that he liked this little girl.

"Why not start off as people who simple _know_ each other, then see how it goes?" he offered.

Jade thought for a moment and then nodded, a grin spreading on her face.

"So, do you want to come and join us? For a little bit?" Izzy asked, lifting her sister onto her knee.

Nny sighed, "I appreciate the offer, but there's things that I need to do. You know how I do, my mind must always be occupied or who knows what will happen."

He got to his feet and looked down at Izzy, "So the first one to catch me has lead me to the one that got away… What do I say to this?"

Izzy scooted her sister onto the sofa and got to her feet. She hesitated, but forced her arms to loop around his shoulders, pulling him close. Hid frame stiffened with anxiousness. For a moment, he stood there, but she slightly tightened her grip, indicating that she wasn't letting go until he did something. He rolled his eyes and lifted his arms to return her embrace. He found that he actually kind of liked it, but was not something that he could allow himself to get used to.

"_What do you say to taking chances?_" she whispered into his ear, chuckling slightly.

"I say, I'll see you around. If you're unlucky enough." He replied, releasing his grip.

She gentle pressed her lips to his, making his eyes narrow in warning. Any other time, she would have backed away or released him quicker, but for some reason, this time she didn't. Instead she smiled and winked, and took her time, slowly pulling away and moving her arms down his before letting go completely.

"I've never really been unlucky around you, now have I?" she laughed, picking up her sister and placing her on her hip, "Now go find her, you know you want to."

He nodded and waved his fingers at Jade, making her duck her head shyly. Izzy waved as Nny vanished from the café, dissolving into the night.

"Izzy? Who was that man?" Jade asked, resting her head on her shoulder.

Izzy smiled, "A friend… A really weird, insane and… crazy friend."

"You gonna see him again?"

She looked at her sister and pushed a strand of hair away from the child's face. She wanted to answer yes and even go and run after him, but she couldn't. Instead, she sighed and shrugged. That was enough of an answer for the girl and she squirmed back to the ground to rejoin the family. Izzy looked down the street after the dark shadow that skimmed down the streets and smirked.

"Yeah… maybe I will see him again…" she sighed and returned to the table, taking a sip of her drink.

After all, she thought to herself, I did promise before that it wasn't going to be goodbye…

The End…?


End file.
